Narrow Stairs
by RussianWolf7
Summary: Kurt/Finn mid ep for Theatricality. The show failed to say where Finn went that night he was kicked out and this is my answer, along with an alternate ending.
1. Where The Road Parts

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter One – Where The Road Parts.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 943

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, maybe higher later.

**Spoilers:** Theatricality.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Where The Road Parts belongs to The Dear Hunter.

**Author's Note:** After much inner conflict I've decided I don't hate Finn and I'd actually like to see him with Kurt. Of course that'd never happen, which is a shame, but here's my version. Takes place halfway through Theatricality.

_Where The Road Parts._

1

Finn closed the door quietly and stood on the front steps staring blankly at the world. He couldn't go back to his house, couldn't stay here, couldn't show up at Puck's…Lacking a better idea, he turned left and started walking. He had no idea where he was going, but anything was better than staying where he was. Maybe the act of moving would make the knot in his stomach go away.

It wasn't fair, really, that he was the one who felt like he was about to start crying. It was Kurt who always coming on to him, Kurt who couldn't take no for an answer, Kurt who decorated their room with that stupid, hideous mess. And it was his mom's decision to move them in without even telling him, and Mr. Hummel's fault for not having enough space. So what if he snapped? He certainly had reason to.

_Yeah, but that's not it._

Finn's stomach twisted and he nearly tripped over a rock lying on the sidewalk. He kicked out at it, sending the offending pebble flying into the road. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked faster, letting his feet guide him. He was stressed, that was all. Kicked out of a place that wasn't even his home on top of everything with Quinn, and Regionals were just around the corner. He was allowed a few stray thoughts, right? It didn't mean anything. Because it really was only a stray thought. It wasn't like he actually considered it or anything like that.

Using every ounce of control he had, Finn pushed any and all thoughts to the back of his head. He didn't want to think, especially about that. Not that there was anything to think about.

_Maybe you should figure out where you're going to stay tonight though._

There was that. He ran through everyone in Glee, but they'd all want to know why he was kicked out, and telling them that he'd called Kurt a fag wouldn't help the situation. If he wasn't already kicked out of Glee, that would pretty much cinch the deal. His only hope was if Kurt didn't tell anyone, but Mr. Hummel had a history of going to the school over every little thing, and this wasn't little.

Finn's stomach clenched again. That'd be just great, to be kicked out of Glee. It was the only place he felt at home, like he could really be himself. Football season was over and even if it wasn't, he wasn't exactly welcome on the team anymore. There were other sports, sure, but he wasn't a part of them the way he had been with football. Between the team ostracizing him, what he was sure Glee would do to him, and his mom choosing Kurt's dad over her own son, he had no one.

A flash of an idea struck him, and he started exploring his pockets with an almost urgent need. No, not his front pockets, not his back pockets, not his sweater shirt pockets. "Goddamnit!" he yelled, not noticing the surprised and angry stare from the woman walking her dog across the street. He had left his iPod in Kurt's room like the idiot he was—even music had abandoned him.

It was the final straw. Finn started running, feet pounding the sidewalks. He cursed the stupidity of Lima, the streets he knew so well. He wanted something new, somewhere that didn't have memories and reminders of just how much of a loser he was at every corner. But here he was, stuck in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio, the familiarity strangling him.

2

Finn didn't know how long he ran, only that he had pushed himself as hard as he could and if he had to walk another foot he'd scream. He sat down, all but collapsing under the shade of a tree, or what would have been the shade if the sun was still up. He had no idea when it had gone down, but it was definitely dark.

Finn looked around, realizing where he was. Somehow he had ended up at school, behind and off to the side of the football field. He stared at the expanse of grass, seeing with vivid clarity every touchdown he had scored, every tackle his team had blocked, every kick Kurt had made. He jerked at that, a flicker of something beyond the pain and regret of hurting his friend, and switched his gaze to the walls of the school. All the windows were dark, and it was then that an idea began to form.

He stood up, legs trembling from his run. He walked slowly towards school, carefully skirting the football field, turning the idea over in his head, looking for any potential flaws. Mr. Shuester had spent the night here back before Sectionals, and the only problem with that was that he slept on a mattress. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with him staying here, and while Finn wasn't a teacher, it was still precedent if he got caught.

A key would be the biggest problem, and even that hardly mattered. Back before Finn had joined Glee, he had pulled his fair share of pranks involving sneaking in at night. There was the loading bay around back that nobody remembered to lock, not to mention any number of open windows, especially this time of year. As long as he was careful, nobody would suspect a thing. He even had an extra outfit or two in the back of his gym locker he could change into.

With a small nod he wasn't aware of, Finn slipped quietly into the shadows of McKinley High.


	2. Open Up

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Two – Open Up.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,519

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, maybe higher later.

**Spoilers:** Theatricality.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Open Up belongs to Punchline.

**Author's Note:** Hooray! Inspiration is still here! I think I even know what's going to happen next O.o

Also, apparently Mr. Shuester is the hardest person in the world to write. I did my best and I think it came out alright but if it didn't, I'm sorry.

_Open Up._

1

Finn woke up with a start. It had taken him a while to find someplace comfortable to sleep and while the teacher's lounge maybe wasn't the safest place, it was also the only room with a couch. Sleep hadn't come easily, and his dreams had been in short fragments filled with angry people yelling terrible things. He sat up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. He didn't know what time it was, but if it was already light out, he didn't have much time to get out of here.

"Finn? Is that you?"

Finn froze. His back was to the door, but he'd recognize the voice anywhere. "Uh…"

The door closed and he heard the footsteps before he actually saw the man. "What are you doing here?" Mr. Shuester sat down on the couch opposite Finn.

"I…" He didn't have a ready answer, and even if he hadn't just woken up, he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with a believable lie. "I got kicked out."

Mr. Shuester let out a breath of air. "What happened?"

The enormity of the situation crashed down on Finn. "I, uh, I called Kurt a fag, but I didn't mean to, and it wasn't him as much as the lamp and the couch and that stupid privacy divider which was so ridiculous it was almost offensive, and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Privacy divider?"

That's what he wanted to know about? A privacy screen? Not the fact that he had said the worst thing he could have thought of? "Uh, yeah. We have to share a room, so when he redecorated he got a privacy screen."

Mr. Shuester's eyes widened and his eyebrows climbed halfway up his forehead. "Since when do you two share a room?"

Right. The beginning of the story. "My mom and his dad started dating a few months ago and they decided to move in together. My mom didn't talk to me about it or anything, and until Mr. Hummel can get around to major renovations, Kurt and I have to share a room. He gave us three hundred dollars to redecorate, but Kurt went ahead and did it without me and it's really, really bad."

Mr. Shuester took a moment to answer. "That really sucks."

Finn stared at him. "Wh-what?" That was not what he had been expecting. Getting kicked out of Glee, definitely. Expelled from school? Even that he had been prepared for. But sympathy? Not at all.

Mr. Shuester came over and sat next to him. "We all lose our temper sometimes. You might have been extra offensive, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person. You've been thrown into a really bad situation, and you're doing the best you can. That's all anybody can ever ask of you. That's not to say you don't need to apologize to Kurt, but it seems to me he has some apologizing of his own to do." He paused. "He's really in love with you, isn't he?"

Finn stiffened. "Yeah." The word came out strangled, and he found he suddenly had to look at his shoes.

"And you don't…"

"No." He kept his eyes on his shoes, and almost didn't notice his stomach turning over. "Look, I promise I won't sleep here again. Just please don't kick me out of Glee. It's all I have."

"What?" he exclaimed. "No, of course not. You and Kurt have some things to work out, but I have faith in you."

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Mr. Shuester grew even more serious. "If you ever call him that again, it'll be a different story. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then it's settled." He paused again. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?"

Finn forced a smile. "I'll be fine, Mr. Shue." He stood up and was most of the way out the door when he turned back. "Thanks for the talk."

"It's what I'm here for."

2

Finn discovered a new talent that afternoon—avoiding people. He managed to go through almost all day without seeing anyone in Glee, and the only time had had to talk to them was in the cafeteria at lunch. He tried his best to get there after everyone had left, but apparently they had been waiting for him.

"Hey, Finn!" Artie called. "Where've you been?"

Finn looked over his shoulder before returning his attention to the lunch line. "Oh, y'know. Around."

There was a moment of silence, then suddenly Artie was sitting right next to him, keeping pace as he walked through the line. "Is it the football guys?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "Are they getting to you?"

Finn felt a rush of relief. At least Kurt hadn't told everyone what had happened. "Yeah, they've been getting a lot worse lately."

Artie nodded. "Kurt's been having a lot of trouble with them, too. Well, see you at Glee." He turned and rolled away, leaving Finn standing still in the line.

Kurt hadn't mentioned anything to him about the team. As far as Finn knew, when the season had ended, they forgot about Kurt and had switched their focus to him. What had happened? Kurt wasn't hurt, was he? Finn glanced surreptitiously at the Glee table. Kurt was there, dressed in some sort of silver jumpsuit and a wig, laughing. He looked normal, or at least as normal as he ever looked. Finn looked away before anyone could notice, paid for his lunch and left, deciding eating outside would be best.

3

He made a point of getting to Glee late to minimize any potential alone time with Kurt. He slouched through the hallways, trying to find the longest possible route from his locker to the chorus room. It was a little hard, especially since they were in the same hall, but by the time Finn walked through the door, he was a good fifteen minutes late.

It hadn't worked. Kurt sat alone, hands folded neatly on his lap, somehow managing to look serious in his ridiculous outfit. "There you are. I'd almost decided you weren't coming. Something about the football team?"

Finn flushed, staying by the door. "Yeah, well. Here I am. Where's everyone else?"

"I sent them to the auditorium to practice. We need to talk, and I figured this would be the only way. You've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't."

Kurt smiled, and something in Finn broke a little more. It wasn't his usual happy, bitchy-go-lucky smile. It was sad and resigned and resentful, and Finn had never seen him look like this, not even last night. His face in contrast to his outfit was almost too much. "It's alright. I'd be avoiding me, too. Sit down, please?" Kurt gestured towards the empty chairs and, against his better judgment, Finn did sit down, making sure to stay as close as possible to the door. "Did you find a place to sleep last night? Nobody mentioned it, and I didn't want to ask around."

Again, that rush of gratitude and relief. Maybe Kurt did have some boundaries. "Yeah, I figured something out." He paused and, gathering every ounce of strength he had, looked Kurt in the eyes. "Look, I—" he stumbled over his words, wondering how he didn't notice Kurt's eyes before. They were such a clear, ice blue, and Finn felt his stomach flip. He felt his cheeks growing red again, and prayed Kurt would just think it was nerves. "I'm really sorry about last night. I didn't mean any of it. I've been under a lot of stress lately, but that's no excuse. I promise it will never, ever happen again."

"I know. I talked to my dad and convinced him to let you come home. He's taking the day off to fix up the shed out back, and you can stay there. It doesn't have any plumbing, but there's electricity, and it should be warm enough this time of year. He wants to sit down with you to plan the addition, to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be, living with me." Kurt suddenly looked away, and Finn thought he might have seen his eyes starting to well up. "I know it can't be easy for you, and I'm sure we can work something out so you're as far away from me as possible."

Finn sighed. "That's not what I want. I don't mind staying with you, as long as you can rid of that god-awful redecorating."

Kurt looked back, clearly surprised, a smile starting to form at the corners of his mouth. "It was pretty bad. I guess I'm not that good at knowing what's masculine."

Finn laughed, this time surprising himself. "No, you're not."

Kurt smiled and opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Mercedes poked her head in and said, "Are you guys almost done in here? Quinn has to leave early for a doctor's appointment, and we really need to practice."

Finn looked at Kurt. "We cool?"

Kurt's smiled widened. "Yeah, we're cool."

6


	3. Welcome to Wherever You Are

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Three – Welcome To Wherever You Are.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,601

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, maybe higher later.

**Spoilers:** Theatricality.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Welcome To Wherever You Are belongs to Bon Jovi.

**Author's Note:** Oh boy, I actually like this chapter! I hope y'all do, too, and if you do, drop me a line! Reviews are the best! I see all your Favorite Stories and Adds Author To Alert Lists—I know you're out there!

_Welcome to Wherever You Are._

1

Kurt drove them home after rehearsal. In what he considered a grand gesture he let Finn pick the music, so it was really his own fault that Bruce Springsteen was blaring from his speakers. The boys, however, were quiet, and Finn was about to say something just to get rid of the tension when Kurt did it for him.

"About our room," he said. "What sort of decorating scheme were you thinking?"

Finn had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "It was fine how it was. As long as, y'know, you don't think it'd wash me out too much."

Kurt glanced at him, saw his smile, and returned it. "You'll be fine, though it couldn't hurt you to get some more sun. Are you sure there's nothing special you'd like to do? Maybe something from your old room?"

Finn looked out the window. "My mom's renting out the place, furniture included. She thought buying new stuff would be fun, part of the moving experience. Out with the old, in with the new and all."

Kurt wanted to look at him, but this time he kept his eyes on the road. "That must be really hard for you."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence, more sympathetic than uncomfortable, then: "Do you want to go buy a bed? My couch can't be comfortable given how tall you are, and having something that's all yours might make you feel more at home."

Finn was touched. "That'd be great, yeah. Is there any money left from the budget your dad gave us?"

Kurt flushed. "Don't worry about it. Consider it an apology for staring at you, and being flirty, and being excited to live together."

Finn cringed. "I told you, I didn't mean—"

"I know," Kurt interrupted. "I didn't mean it. Forget I said anything."

Finn wanted to say something, anything, that would fix things between them, but he didn't know what that would be. A little voice in the back of his mind was trying to tell him, but he had an idea of what it wanted him to say, and he pushed it away. Time, that was the answer. He couldn't expect Kurt to just get over what he had said, just like Kurt couldn't expect him to suddenly turn gay. "So," he said, forcing the words out, "where should we look for beds?"

Kurt smiled, and to Finn it looked genuinely excited. "Leave that to me."

2

With the help of a still angry and newly confused Burt Hummel, Finn managed to get the new bed downstairs. Mr. Hummel looked like he wanted to say something, maybe to protest, but Kurt shot him a look so ferocious Finn was a little surprised his dad didn't burst into flames on the spot. He did, however, leave, muttering something about needing to put the shed to rights.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kurt asked, watching as Finn started unpacking the box. "Though with a bed that plain, there can't be much to do."

Finn let out an exasperated sigh. Kurt's good intentions aside, he had had to fight tooth and nail to get the bed he wanted—a plain, dark wood frame and a plain, springboard mattress. No loft, no Tempur-whatever mattress, nothing fancy. Just a bed. "I think I'm good."

"Fine. I'll deal with the rest of the room, then."

"You do that."

Kurt looked over at him, getting ready to be angry, but what he saw took any fight out of him. Finn was sitting amidst a pile of steel planks with an instruction booklet half crumpled in one hand and a confused look on his face. Kurt smiled, and got to work tearing apart everything he had put up the day before.

They worked in a companionable silence, the physical labor of Finn's work making talking too difficult and the feelings of desolation from undoing everything keeping Kurt quiet. Every now and then Kurt would ask if Finn was absolutely sure about throwing something out, and Finn always grunted an affirmative. It wasn't until Kurt got to the privacy partition that he genuinely didn't know what to do.

"Um, Finn?"

Finn didn't bother looking up. "Toss it."

"I think you might want—"

"There's nothing over there I could possibly want." He paused. "No offense or anything, it's just not my, uh, personal style."

Kurt smiled a little. "Still, if you could just look…"

Finn sighed, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked over at Kurt. "What?"

Kurt gestured vaguely at the screen, eyes diverted but still readable. For what seemed like the billionth time that day, Finn ignored the tightening in his stomach. Kurt was usually so confident, so self assured, and seeing him in such obvious pain and confusion made Finn know what his answer would be even before Kurt asked the question.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted it, or…"

"Toss it," Finn repeated.

Now Kurt did look at him, light blue eyes searching Finn's brown ones. "Are you sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel better or anything?"

Finn looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "C'mon, man. Don't make a big deal of it."

"Sorry," Kurt said, voice quiet. "You know you can always ask me to leave if you feel uncomfortable."

Finn sighed again in frustration. He didn't want the screen, but even more he didn't want to have a conversation about it. "It's no big deal," he mumbled, turning around and surveying the state of his bed. It was actually almost finished; the frame was there, he just needed to get the mattress on the thing. If Kurt had let him get a twin like he had wanted it wouldn't be an issue, but he had insisted on a queen for "practicality", and Finn really hadn't wanted to push it. "Actually, Kurt, do you think you could give me a hand?"

Kurt eyed the mattress doubtfully. "I appreciate your faith in me, but I don't think I'm strong enough."

"You don't have to lift it. I just want you to stand on the other side in case it looks like it's going to fall off."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "So you'd rather it land on me than the floor? I thought we were friends."

Finn grinned. "You'll be fine. Get over here."

Still apprehensive, Kurt walked over to where Finn indicated. "What do I do?"

"Just stay there." Finn's words were muffled as he wrestled with the mattress. Kurt couldn't see him at all, just fingers digging into the side of the thing.

"Finn, I'm not so sure this is a good idea…"

"You'll be fine, just give me a second." The mattress moved around and got into position. "Ready?"

"No!"

"Too late!" Finn dropped the mattress and, if it hadn't been for Kurt, it would've gone crashing to the floor. He stood opposite Finn, holding onto the mattress, keeping it from completely falling off the bed.

"Get over here and help me!" he yelled. "I can't hold this for much longer!"

Finn was at his side in a second, first sharing, then taking the weight. He maneuvered it with an easy strength and soon it was in position. He collapsed on it, long legs hanging off the side. "See? Nothing we can't handle."

"Speak for yourself," Kurt said tightly, but he still joined Finn on the mattress. "Do you have any sheets?"

"I thought you did."

Kurt sighed with the air of someone working with a very small child. "Wait here." He got up and left, muttering under his breath in an uncanny impression of his dad.

Finn continued to lay on his new bed, staring up at the grey ceiling. Maybe sharing a room with Kurt really wouldn't be too bad; they certainly seemed to be getting along now. He was even having fun, in a weird, redecorating sort of way. And as long as Kurt didn't come back with anything pink or paisley, he thought this whole bed-buying adventure had been a really good idea. Kurt was right—having something that was his made him feel better.

Kurt came back down the stairs and tossed a set of sheets onto the bed. "These were all I could come up with. We can go shopping again tomorrow and find something better."

They were dark brown. Thank god. "They're perfect," Finn said, getting up. He started to make the bed but Kurt grabbed the sheets away from him.

"You're doing it all wrong. Take that stuff out to the trash, and I'll deal with this. I can't carry it anyways." He started making the bed, and for the life of him, Finn couldn't tell what he was doing differently.

"Whatever you say," Finn said, as he started bringing the remnants of Kurt's failure to the garage. This, too, was nearly cathartic, and by the time it was gone and Kurt's room was back to normal, he felt positively happy.

"I couldn't find matching blankets," Kurt said by way of greeting. "This blue clashes horribly, and unless you'd start calling me fag again, I'm going to get a new comforter for you tomorrow. I promise I won't get anything you'd hate. Dark brown, right?"

Finn smiled at him. "You know you're ridiculous, right?"

Kurt started to get upset, then thought better of it. "And you're colorblind if you honestly think these go together."

"Even more ridiculous for thinking I care."

"And even more blind for not caring."

They grinned at each other, and Finn thought again that maybe this would turn out all right after all.

7


	4. Something To Sleep To

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Four – Something To Sleep To.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** Sex, kind of. Definitely explicit.

**Word Count:** 2,204

**Rating:** R for graphic sex.

**Spoilers:** Theatricality.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Something To Sleep To Belongs to Michelle Branch.

**Author's Note:** Ah, finally, explicit loveliness. If you're not into gay sex (not sure why you'd be reading this if you aren't, but stranger things have happened), skip the italic part. You should be able to pick things up just fine.

I'm very excited about this for a little bit of a strange reason. I picked up in the middle of Theatricality, staring where Finn got kicked out, and I was worrying about how to deal with Finn in the Red Dress at the end of the episode. Answer ahoy!

_Something To Sleep To._

1

The problem with the bed, it turned out, was that it smelled like Kurt. An awful lot like Kurt. Finn rolled over for what seemed like the millionth time, trying to find a way to sleep where it didn't feel like he was being suffocated. Because suffocated was definitely the word he wanted to use, along with such synonyms as drowning and smothering and strangling. He stared at the ceiling, silently cursing the thesaurus Rachel had not so subtly gotten him back when they had been dating.

There were some other words, though, that kept trying to creep into his mind. Like cuddle, maybe, complete with all sorts of other uncomfortable words; caress, embrace, snuggle, each leading off into even worse territories. Caress implied kiss, embrace implied entwine, snuggle implied spoon. Finn rolled over, burying his face into his pillow, trying to get away from those stupid words.

"Finn? Are you still awake?"

He made some sort of affirmative noise, keeping his face in his pillow on the off chance Kurt had super vision and could see how red his face was.

"Is your bed uncomfortable? I told you, you should have gotten that Tempur-Pedic."

"I don't want a stupid Tempur-Pedic," he told his pillow. "My mattress is fine. It's great. It's wonderful, amazing, brilliant, sensational, even miraculous."

Kurt stayed quiet for a moment before saying, "I guess that's your thesaurus I found hidden under the couch."

Another affirmative grunt.

"Then what's the problem?"

_Living with you is driving me crazy, only not in the way you think._ "Nothing."

"Are you sure? It's nearly three."

"Then why are you still up?"

Kurt didn't seem to have a response to that, and eventually Finn fell asleep.

2

_Kurt was slowly crawling up his body, making sure every inch of their skin was touching. His hands were everywhere, touching everything, setting his nerves on fire. He stopped for a moment to softly kiss his burning skin before continuing. Finn let out a low moan, a quiet sound that reverberated through his body, making Kurt shiver._

_Kurt finally reached his destination and stopped, letting him take in the sensation. He was lying fully on top of him, bare chest against bare chest, bare legs twined together, bare erections barely touching. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against Finn's._

"_I love you," he whispered, then kissed him again. Kurt's lips were so soft, and now it was his turn to shiver._

"_I love you, too," Finn said, leaning up for another kiss. He slid his tongue into his mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Their lips moved together, tongues exploring, hands moving over their bodies, hardly able to tell where one started and the other ended. Kurt slipped his hand between them, first touching him so gently it almost tickled, then wrapping his hand around Finn. He moaned, thrusting into his hand._

"_Kurt."_

_He smiled, kissed him once more, then slid down his body. His mouth joined his hand and Finn's moans grew louder. He reached down and tangled his fingers in his hair, holding him there, knowing he shouldn't and not being able to help himself._

"_Kurt."_

_He started moving faster, sucking not as gently, licking, touching, doing anything and everything he had ever fantasized about. He was moaning too, feeding off Finn's arousal. He could feel him getting harder, breathing getting faster and uneven, and still getting louder and louder. He moved one hand down, touching, caressing, cradling his sac._

"_Kurt!"_

_He came hard, groaning deep in the back of his throat, shaking, exploding into his mouth. Kurt kept sucking, swallowing, cleaning him, bringing him back down. He kissed his softening erection, lips barely touching it, then moved up, lying on Finn, covering him, holding him._

"_Kurt…"_

"_I love you."_

3

Finnwoke up feeling awful. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach like there was something he should feel guilty about, but he had just woken up, so how could he have already done something wrong?

Then he noticed his sheets.

"Oh no," he whispered. Closing his eyes, praying he was wrong, he reached down. No, he was not wrong. The dream came flooding back in vivid clarity and he had to bite back a moan of despair. He buried his face in his pillow again, willing himself to disappear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" The voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the quiet, sultry tones that had been in his dream. He heard the footsteps coming down the stairs and sat up, grabbing the blankets around himself, obscuring any evidence. Had Kurt heard him last night? Was that why he was so happy?

"Morning," Finn mumbled, looking anywhere other than Kurt.

"I made waffles," he announced, thankfully staying at the base of the staircase. "They're in the kitchen, getting cold. Did you sleep well?" The question sounded genuine, and Finn decided that wasn't what he would've asked if he knew.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "Waffles sound good."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Kurt asked. "School starts in a half hour, and we need to leave in fifteen."

Finn stayed where he was, trying to figure out how to get up. There was undoubtedly a stain on the front of his pajamas, and he couldn't very well stand up naked. "I'll, uh, meet you upstairs?" he said, hoping Kurt would get the hint.

He did. "Oh, okay," he said, giving him a confused look. "Just don't take too long."

"Yeah, I won't," Finn replied, waiting until he was absolutely certain Kurt was out of sight before getting out of bed. He got dressed and quickly as he could, shoving the dirty pants to the bottom of the laundry basket. He didn't know how he was going to clean them, or the sheets, but right now the most important thing was to get upstairs before Kurt grew any more suspicious.

4

The waffles were delicious, and Finn downed three of them in a space of about a minute. Kurt was watching him, looking disgusted.

"Hungry much?"

Finn shrugged, starting in on a fourth. "Did you hear anything weird last night?" he asked, hoping he couldn't sound too awkward with a mouth full of waffle.

Kurt gave him another weird look. "No, why? Did you?"

Finn breathed a sigh of relief, or would've if his mouth hadn't still been full. "Nope."

"Okay…"

5

The car ride to school was awkward, at least on Finn's end. He felt vaguely sick, but he couldn't tell if it was from inhaling the waffles or residual guilt from last night. He stared out the window thinking about how to deal with the sheets, how lucky he was that Kurt had been asleep, anything other than the dream itself. Every now and then a fragment would intrude, making his stomach tighten sickeningly, and it was this face that caught Kurt's attention.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look like you're about to throw up."

Finn grimaced and looked out the window. "I'm fine."

"Was it the waffles? It was a new recipe, but I thought they came out fabulously."

"I told you, I'm fine."

Kurt glanced at him, torn. "There's something I need to tell you, which is why I made the waffles in the first place, and I was hoping to wait until you're in a better mood, but we're almost at school, and you really should know."

Finn's stomach knotted tighter. Oh god, Kurt did know. He had just been playing dumb, trying to load him up with waffles to brighten his mood. His head spun with potential consequences—being kicked out again, having to live in the laundry room, needing to explain to Kurt's dad why he had ruined their only guest sheets. Or, worst of all, maybe Kurt had enjoyed it. Maybe he had joined him, jerking off to whatever noises he had made. _Please god, no_, Finn thought. "Wh-what is it?" he managed to force out.

"Well, the Glee Club and I have decided to…"

Finn breathed a huge sigh of relief, not bothering to listen to the rest of what Kurt was saying. He leaned back in his seat and let Kurt's words wash over him, basking in the relief that he hadn't been caught.

"Finn? Hello, earth to Finn? Did you hear anything I said?" Kurt's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

"Uh, no," he admitted sheepily. "Maybe I did have too many waffles."

Kurt gave him a look that was half glare, half smile. "Maybe indeed. What I said was that today everyone in Glee is coming into school decked out in their best Gaga wear. I know you don't have anything, so I took the liberty of making you a costume."

Finn jerked, sitting up straight. "What? Why didn't you guys tell me?"

"Well you weren't at lunch when it was decided, and then I was waiting to catch you in a good mood."

Finn sat in his seat, staring at Kurt, barely noticing that they were pulling into the school's parking lot. "I have to dress like Gaga. Like a girl."

Kurt squirmed in his seat, trying to keep his attention on parking. "That or Kiss, but I know how upset you were about the makeup, so—"

"So you decided I have to wear a dress instead of demon make up?" Finn said, voice getting louder. "Without asking me, or giving me a choice, or anything?"

Kurt turned the car off, and Finn could see how uncomfortable he was. _Good,_ he thought. _Let him know how it feels._ "I was just trying to help."

"That's what you said about the room, and you know how well that turned out." Finn got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. "When will you get it through that thick head of yours that I don't want your help?" he yelled through the open window. "That there is nothing you could ever possibly help me with?"

Kurt's eyes were filling with tears, and Finn felt a pang of regret. "What about your bed, huh? That was my idea."

Finn looked around, looked for anyone who could've misunderstood. There was a gaggle of cheerleaders staring at them, and Karofsky and Azimio were nudging each other and pointing in their direction. Finn turned back to Kurt, eyes blazing, any regret gone. "Just shut up," he hissed, voice dropping. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you that ashamed of me, Finn?" Kurt said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Is living with me really that bad?"

Finn slammed a hand against the side of Kurt's car. "Screw you," he said, not paying attention to the volume of his voice. "You and your room, your car, your dress you want me to wear. I give up—I quit. Tell Glee I'm not coming back." He started to walk away, then turned back. "And don't expect me to come home tonight, either."

5

Finn felt terrible. Not a normal sort of terrible, or a waffles-related terrible, but a down-and-out, I-can't-focus-on-anything-other-than-the-depths-of-my-misery sort of terrible. He felt like he was going to throw up, or pass out, or both. Or maybe the floor would cave in and swallow him whole—that would be preferable to sitting right here, right now, in Mr. Shuester's Spanish class.

"Finn? Can you tell us the translation of 'Not focusing in class is the prime reason for failing the test on Friday', please?"

Finn looked up from his desk. "Sorry, what?"

There must have been something on his face, because instead of repeating the question Mr. Shuester appeared at his desk, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay, Finn?" he asked, voice low. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Finn nodded, relieved. "Thanks, Mr. Shue." He got up and left the class, ignoring the looks of concern and confusion from his fellow Glee-mates. Instead of going to the nurse he wandered the school, lost in thought, only they weren't so much thoughts as an overwhelming feeling of despair. His feet shuffled along, taking him through the familiar hallways, somehow managing to avoid anyone who might ask why he wasn't in class.

The bell rang, and classroom doors started opening. Finn nearly panicked, not wanting to see anyone from Glee, especially Kurt. In a sudden burst of inspiration he disappeared into the throng of freshman surrounding him and emerged on the roof, a place he and Quinn used to come to make out. He slid the piece of cardboard into place so the door wouldn't lock behind him without thinking about it and sat down by the door, keeping low so nobody looking up would be able to see him. He kept telling himself there had to be a way to fix what he had said, but he just couldn't convince himself. Maybe if it hadn't been the second time this week, maybe if he hadn't just barely managed to patch things up the first time, maybe this could squeak by. But since all of those things were true, Finn could only come to one conclusion:

He was well and truly fucked, and he had no one to blame but himself.

9


	5. Saying Sorry

1

For an idea so obvious, it took Finn an awfully long time to think of it. He had been on the roof for hours before it came to him, and even then it was only because he had started pacing and happened to see Kurt's car sitting in the parking lot.

Finn stared at it for a minute before leaving the roof. He slipped through the hallways and made it to the car without being seen. He had a moment of panic when he realized the car was locked, and he considered breaking a window before he remembered Kurt had given him a key the day he moved in. There was another frantic moment while he searched his backpack, but he found it eventually, hiding under a geology textbook. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the key in his hand before unlocking the door. It was the only chance he had to fix things with Kurt, and he wasn't going to let some stupid sense of pride stop him.

Again.

2

It took a long time to find him, mostly because Finn hadn't anticipated how difficult moving would be. But at last he turned that final corner, and his heart dropped. Kurt was there, yes, but so were Karofsky and Azimio, and they had him trapped against a wall. Although Kurt was crying, he was still defending himself, and Finn knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he had made the right choice.

"Fine. You want to hit me? You want to beat me up? Go ahead. But I swear to you I will never change. I'm proud to be different. It's the best thing about me."

_Couldn't agree more,_ Finn thought to himself.

"So go ahead," Kurt said, his voice surprisingly strong even as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Hit me."

"I believe I will," Azimio said. He gestured towards Karofsky saying, "Sir, would you like to go first?"

"You're not hitting anyone," Finn said, stepping forward. He heard Kurt's gasp, and the accompanying, "Oh, my god," but he kept his attention on the football players.

Azimio stared at him. "Is he wearing a red rubber dress, or am I tripping?" He looked scared, or at least confused, and that was good.

"I want to thank you, Kurt," Finn said, looking at him. "I realize I still have a lot to learn, but the reason I'm here right now, in what I expect is a shower curtain, is because of you." He turned back to Karofsky and Azimio. "And I'm not going to let anyone lay a hand on you." The words felt right, good and strong, and for the first time in days his stomach completely unknotted itself. Finn was left with an overwhelming sense of calm.

Karofsky scoffed. "Really dude? Because I'm pretty sure we can take both of you."

Finn was about to say something, maybe make some grand gesture about offering his life for Kurt's, when a voice spoke up behind him.

"Yeah, but can you take all of us?"

Finn turned around. It was Puck who had spoken, but the entire Glee Club was standing there, dressed to the nines, as promised. He vaguely heard Azimio talking about how they were freaks, and Karofsky definitely said they'd be back with friends, but mostly he was in shock. Everyone was here? Defending him? He couldn't get past it. He had quit, was as bad as the football players if not worse, yet they had still come.

Then it hit him. Kurt. They had come for Kurt. He felt himself deflating, the odd sense of importance and martyrdom that had come with the putting on the dress fading away. Rachel said something about hating being a freak, and Mercedes saying that they _were_ freaks, just look at them, and he was about to slip quietly away when Kurt came and stood next to him.

"We're all freaks together," he said, gently bumping Finn's hand with his own, and Finn recognized it for what it was—a gesture of inclusion, not an attempt to hold his hand. "And we shouldn't have to hide it."

There was clapping, and Mr. Shuester appeared, talking about that week's lesson. Finn looked down at Kurt, who offered a small smile.

"We need to talk," Finn said, keeping his voice low.

"I didn't tell Glee, you know. If you really want to quit you'll have to do it yourself, in front of anyone."

Finn shook his head sharply. "Never gonna happen."

Kurt's smile widened a little and he reached up, squeezing the pointy shoulder. "I can't believe you actually wore it."

Finn returned the gesture, and even he could tell the difference between the fabrics. "I can't believe you made two of these."

"Yours even fits," he said, the sense of accomplishment clear in his voice. "Come on. We don't want to be late to practice two days in a row." He nodded towards their fellow Glee-clubbers who were walking towards the chorus room. "People will start to talk."

3

They sat in a pizza shop in their normal clothes. Finn had taken the dress off immediately after practice, which Kurt justified by saying it wasn't built for day to day wear and if he really wanted one, he'd make him another out of something that wasn't a shower curtain. After Finn insisted on paying for the both of them they had been quiet, and Finn had the idea that Kurt was waiting for him to talk.

Finn stared at the pizza in front of him, wishing he hadn't eaten quite so many waffles. He wasn't hungry at all, and it was easier to blame the food than the ever-recurring knot in his stomach.

Eventually Kurt couldn't stand it anymore, and he broke the silence. "Do you want to talk, or did you just bring me here to watch pizza congeal?"

Finn didn't know what to say. The despair was back, even worse than before. Had he really thought he could fix things? Did he really think he had any idea what to say to Kurt? Was there anything, anything at all, he could possibly do?

_The truth. You could always tell him the truth._

There was that, yes, but would it really help?

"Finn?" Kurt's voice was small, and that decided it. Finn couldn't really make things much worse, now could he?

"I had a dream last night," he said. "It was, um, about us. As a couple. And I…" He took a deep breath. "I really don't know how to say this. It ended…well." He glanced at Kurt, who was looking confused. "A…happy ending?"

Kurt took a sudden breath. "Oh."

Finn kept his gaze on his pizza, very aware of how red his cheeks were. "Apparently it can be caused by stress, or, um, not getting any, and whatever it was about isn't necessarily what, y'know, you want it to be."

Another, even quieter, "Oh."

"But it could be."

"Could be what, exactly?"

"Could be about what you want." He could practically feel Kurt's eyes boring holes in his head, but he still didn't look at him. "But, man, I dunno. Those sheets you gave me, they smelled like you, and I couldn't sleep, and I have been really stressed, like _really_ stressed, and I guess I kind of snapped. None of that's an excuse for how I treated you, and I hate myself for it, but that's why." He paused, thinking he was done, then added, "And then you had to go and make me a fucking dress."

"I did, didn't I?" Kurt's voice was far away, in the glance Finn managed to steal, he saw that his eyes were unfocused as well.

"Don't go getting any ideas," he said in a hurry. "I'm not gay. I'm straight. One stupid dream doesn't change anything."

"Don't be an idiot," Kurt snapped, sounding much more there. "I know that. You've made it abundantly clear."

"Well you keep pushing me," Finn responded, feeling himself getting worked up again and not knowing how to fix it. "I opened up to you, Kurt. I really want us to be friends, to be able to live together, but I have a lot of stuff I need to work through, and I need to know you're going to let me do that."

"When have I ever not done exactly that?" Kurt asked, sounding hurt and angry all at the same time. "I've told you a hundred times I'm here for you, that you can always talk to me. I even helped you way back when you were still with Quinn, and you needed to know what to wear to dinner with her parents. What have I done to make you think anything other than that? Please tell me, I'm dying to know."

Finn opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't come up with an easy answer. "You make me feel like there are strings attached," he said. "Like whenever I do something nice for you, or tell you anything, you expect something from me, something I can't give you."

Kurt was silent, and when Finn worked up the courage to look at him, he could see he had struck a nerve. "You're right," he said, voice tight, and Finn thought he might be near tears for the third time that day. "You're right and I'm sorry. I have expected things from you, and I know you'll never be who I want you to be."

"That's not what I meant." Kurt looked up at him, and Finn immediately looked down at his pizza again. "I mean…I don't know, I really don't. I just need some space, okay? Some time to think."

"Do you want me to leave now?" he asked.

"No. I don't know." Finn let out a huge sigh and rested his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wish things were easier between us, or at least that I could stop myself from being a huge jerk most of the time. You deserve better than this."

Kurt gently touched Finn's hair, just for a moment, before pulling away. "It's okay. I know you're doing the best you can."

"It sucks." The words came out muffled, and Finn hoped Kurt couldn't hear that he was close to tears himself.

"Life sucks sometimes," Kurt said matter-of-factly. "It's alright, it always gets better eventually."

"And what am I supposed to do about Quinn?" Finn asked, the change of topic seeming to come naturally. "She's completely shut me out, and I think Puck still wants to kill me. I know Beth isn't my baby, but, like, she still is, y'know?" Finn sighed again. "No, you don't. Of course not. Forget it."

"No, I'm not going to just forget it." Kurt got up and slid into the booth next to Finn, who seemed not to notice. "What she did to you is completely unfair, and rivaled only by Puck's inane stupidity. Have you talked to her at all since you found out it isn't yours?"

Finn shook his head miserably. "I can't at school, can't at Puck's house. I don't even want to. What's there to say?"

"You can start by telling her how you're feeling, and go from there."

That was so logical it almost sounded like reason. "I dunno." He suddenly realized that Kurt was sitting next to him, and that they were, in fact, in a public place. "Dude, what are you doing here?"

Kurt shrugged, a blush starting to creep up his neck. "You looked like you could use a hug."

"This is not a hug. This is, like, completely gay. In a non-offensive, completely literal sort of way."

Kurt smiled a little. "Fine," he said, and wrapped his arms around Finn. Kurt leaned his head on his shoulder for a split second before pulling away. "Call me anything you want, but that's what friends do."

Finn could only sit there and let his stomach sort out his feelings. It was the only thing that made sense anymore.

3


	6. Whataya Want From Me

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Six – Whataya Want From Me.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,985

**Rating:** PG-13 I think, maybe just PG.

**Spoilers:** Vague Quinn in Funk, stuff with Santana in The Power Of Madonna.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs Whataya Want From Me belongs to Adam Lambert.

**Author's Note:** Dear Constant Readers,

I apologize for the number of typos that have appeared in the last few chapters. I've been in a writing frenzy, and sometimes I don't notice them. My beta reader is wonderful, but sometimes people get tired, or dinner needs to get made. Every attempt will be made in the future to ensure a better quality of writing.

It has also come to my attention that I've used the word "really" far, far too many times. This, too, should stop in the near future.

Thanks for understanding,

~Wolf

p.s. I forgot to mention this in the last author's note, but I just wanted to let y'all know that I know I changed stuff around in that scene from Theatricality last chapter. I stayed as true to it as I could, but if I hadn't changed a few things, it wouldn't have made any sense. I hope you guys still liked it!

_Whataya Want From Me._

1

He called Quinn that night. He was a little surprised and sad to realize that she was still speed dial number one, and the old habit of calling her almost made him forget why he was doing it in the first place.

"Hello?"

Finn steeled himself for a rush of emotion, but none came. "Hi, Quinn. It's me. Finn."

"I know you who are." Her voice was neither happy nor sad, just wary. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk," he said for the second time that day.

"About what? About how you completely abandoned me, like I'm a common whore?" There was the anger, and once it started, it was contagious.

"You slept with my best friend!"

"Once! Because I was drunk! Don't tell me you've never done anything stupid that you've regretted the next day."

He immediately flashed to Kurt. "That's completely different, I—"

"You what?" Quinn asked, her voice scalding. "Please tell me, Saint Finn. What could have possibly done wrong in your whole life?"

"At least I didn't get a girl pregnant."

"No? Have you ever lied about using birth control? Good for you—maybe you could teach Puck a thing or two."

Finn felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "Wh-what—"

"But oh wait, that's right. You've never even had sex. Congratulations, Finn. You're officially a better person than me." There was a click, and then she was gone.

Finn sat down heavily on his bed, phone dangling loosely from one hand. Puck had lied to her? That didn't change the fact that she had cheated on him, but it certainly put it in a different light. And there was the small fact that he had slept with Santana, but now didn't seem like the right time to make that publicly known.

"Finn?"

He jumped, turning towards the sound of the voice. "You were here for that?"

Kurt shrugged apologetically. "I was in the bathroom, and I figured it'd be better to stay there than interrupt you."

Finn didn't say anything, instead lying the rest of the way down. "I don't feel any better, Kurt."

"Never said you would."

Finn felt the bed shift, and realized Kurt had sat down next to him. Maybe it was the stress of the phone call, or the day, or his dream, but his heart started to race and he found he couldn't look at him. "Then what was the point of calling?" he asked, though he didn't really care that much anymore.

"Closure?" Kurt suggested. "Maybe getting to a point where you could be friends again?"

"We were hardly friends in the first place," Finn said, deciding focusing on the conversation would be a good idea. "We only started dating in the first place because she was head cheerleader and I was the quarterback. She was hot, sure, but there wasn't much more to it than that."

"Then maybe things worked out for the best." Kurt lay down next to Finn, lying on his side so he could see him. "Being with someone you don't love isn't the right answer."

Finn stayed on his back, trying to figure out if Kurt was flirting with him, or if it was all in his head. "I guess."

"Have you ever been in love?" Kurt asked. "Or is that not an emotion football players are capable of?"

That definitely sounded like flirting to Finn, but if it was, then why did it feel so different from all the other times? "I don't know," he said uncomfortably. "I guess not."

Kurt kept his eyes on Finn. "Well, it's bound to happen one day. Even for an oaf like you."

Finn laughed nervously. "If you say so." In retrospect, that might not have been the best answer, but his head was feeling cloudy, and thinking seemed to take longer than usual. "What about you?" No, definitely not the right thing to say.

"Oh, y'know. Who knows?" Kurt's voice sounded light and airy on top, but there was an undercurrent that Finn couldn't make out.

"Yeah." Finn rolled over so he was facing Kurt, and that was the biggest mistake of all. Without being aware he was doing it, Finn was suddenly leaning forward, brushing his lips against Kurt's, barely registering that they were even softer than in his dream before he realized what he was doing. He jerked away and sat up, looking anywhere except Kurt.

"Finn?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"No." A firm negative was the only thing he could think of, though there was a part of him that realized that wasn't an answer.

"What just happened?"

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

Kurt sat up too, and Finn sensed him trying to make eye contact. "I don't think that's an option at this point."

"Yeah, well, it is." Finn stood up, and his eyes fell on his towel, lying in a heap next to his dresser. "I'm gonna take a shower," he said, grabbing it and heading for the bathroom. "I need to think."

2

The shower didn't particularly help. Being naked only made him more uncomfortable, and the water was freezing, but he couldn't bring himself to turn it up. He didn't deserve it, not after the way he treated Kurt. There wasn't anything worse he could have done, was there? Not even calling him a fag again would have been as bad as kissing him. Any unwelcome feelings aside, Finn was straight. Period. End of story.

Or so he thought. Before he met Kurt, the question of his sexuality had never crossed his mind. There weren't any repressed memories, no funny feelings during group showers after practice, nothing. Since middle school he'd always had a girlfriend, whoever was currently hottest and most popular. He hadn't meant it that way, it was just what he did.

And then came Kurt, with his fashion and flaming self-confidence, and that voice. They had only sung together once or twice outside of New Directions but, looking back, that was probably where any funny feelings had started. There was something so wonderfully innocent about his voice; when he sang, all the walls and facades he put up fell away and he became Kurt, just plain old, wildly talented Kurt.

If they hadn't moved in together, this might not have happened. Finn had certainly been doing fine before, at least in the not-being-gay department. There might have been twinges every now and then, but nothing he couldn't ignore, especially if he managed to get Rachel, or even Quinn back. And even if he didn't, there was always that night with Santana, though he had to admit that had felt much more wrong than anything that had happened with Kurt.

Finn shut off the shower before he could completely freeze. He didn't have any answers, any new, grand scheme, but he couldn't stay there forever. He toweled off and, after realizing he hadn't thought to bring in a change of clothes, wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out the door.

3

Kurt had migrated back to his own bed and was immersed in a magazine.

"You're right," Finn said. "We should talk."

Kurt glanced over the top of his magazine and while his eyes might have lingered a little too long, he turned back to it before talking. "Nope."

Finn was dumbfounded. Nope? After everything that had happened today, his answer was a simple nope? "What?"

Kurt kept his eyes on his magazine. "I don't really see the point."

"I kissed you."

His fingers tightened, the pages making a quiet crinkling sound. "I know."

"And you don't want to talk about it?"

"I think you've said all there is to say, don't you?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Exactly my point."

Finn stared at him. "I can't believe this," he said to himself. "You're impossible."

Now Kurt did look at him, eyes blazing. "I'm impossible? _I'm_ impossible? Twice now you've said things to me that should have made me never speak to you again but instead I forgave you. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, to let you take out your anger and frustration at the world on me, because I knew you needed someone to vent at. You might have stood up for me in front of Karofsky and Azimio today, but given the way you've been acting, by tomorrow you could go back to being one of them. How on earth am I supposed to trust you when your mood changes faster than—than—than a really fast-changing thing," he sputtered, anger making it hard to talk. "And then you kissed me! After months of me making it more than obvious how I felt about you, you had to wait until now, until I can't trust a word you say."

Finn had been leaning against the wall, and now he slid down it, the strength running out from his legs. In what was honestly not a ploy, and was probably the last thing he wanted to do, he started crying, completely and totally powerless to stop the tears from rolling down his face. He buried his head in his hands, unable to look at Kurt, or anything else.

"Hey, wait, no," Kurt said, all anger gone from his voice. "Finn, there's no reason to cry. We can work it out."

Finn shook a hand in the air, dismissing the remark. He wanted to say something, wanted to tell Kurt it wasn't his fault, that he was the messed up one, that Kurt putting up with him was above and beyond anything he deserved, but he couldn't make the words come out.

Kurt seemed to understand anyway. He was suddenly at his side, wrapping his arms around him, telling him it would be okay, everything would be okay, nothing lasted forever. It wasn't the words as much as the tone, and Finn slowly stopped crying. He sniffed back the last few tears, and while he was aware of his distinct lack of manliness, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he said, voice choked. "I'm not trying to be like this."

"I know you aren't." Kurt's hand found Finn's and he twined their fingers together. "You'll be okay, I promise. I'll see to it myself."

Finn covered Kurt's hand with his other, marveling at how small it was. Kurt's hand completely disappeared between the two of his. He was suddenly tired, completely exhausted, and all he could think about was the state of his sheets. He knew it was ridiculous, but a few stray tears escaped, and he had to laugh.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "What is it now?"

"My sheets…" Finn trailed off.

Kurt's cheeks grew pink as he said, "Take my bed tonight. Tomorrow's Thursday, and our housekeeper will come and take care of it."

"What about you?" Finn asked.

"I'll sleep on the couch. I'm little, I'll be fine."

Finn yawned hugely. "I don't have any pajamas either."

"I'll get you something of my dad's. Wait here, okay?"

Finn nodded, leaning his head back against the wall and letting his eyes close. He managed to stay awake until Kurt got back, holding a pair of flannel pants in one hand and a glass of what looked like milk in the other. "See if these fit. I had to tell my dad you spilled tea yours, so try to remember if he asks in the morning." He paused, the blush coming back. "And I got you a glass of warm milk. I know it's silly, but it always makes me feel better when I'm upset."

Finn was touched. He put the pants on without thinking about going into the bathroom or asking Kurt to turn around, and he took the glass, sipping it slowly. "Thanks, Kurt."

He smiled. "Don't worry about it. Come on, let's get you to bed."


	7. In My Head

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Seven – In My Head.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,146

**Rating:** PG-13 for language and vague sexual stuff.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and In My Head belongs to Anna Nalick.

**Author's Note:** I'm almost tempted to take a day or two off from updating, just to leave you guys hanging :P

Also, who else is as excited as I am for the Glee finale tonight? I can't wait!

_In My Head._

1

Finn woke up carefully, or at least as carefully as he could. There was no sinking feeling, or rush of regret, just an overwhelming sense of peace, like all was right with the world. Not even realizing Kurt was curled up in his arms changed that, even though he had no memory of it happening. In fact, rather than freak out, he moved closer, fitting their bodies together, letting his body tell him what was right. He had given his brain a chance, had tried to think everything through, but that had only ended in disaster. So maybe, at least for now, he should just do what feels right. Kurt mumbled something in his sleep, moved a little, and suddenly froze. Finn could feel him realizing where he was, trying to decide if Finn was awake, gauging his reaction.

"Morning," Finn said quietly.

Kurt stiffened. "Uh, good morning."

"Any idea how you ended up here?" Finn asked.

Kurt paused, thinking about it. "I remember getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and I guess I got into my bed out of habit, but I swear I didn't…"

"It's okay," Finn mumbled, voice still muggy from sleep. "Stuff happens." But he didn't make any move to pull away, and that feeling of peace, of rightness, was still there. "Do you know what time is it?"

Kurt looked at his bedside table. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "I must have forgotten to set my alarm last night, and now we're late—" He tried to get up, but Finn held him where he was.

"If we're already late, what's a few more minutes?"

Finn could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Do you have any idea how long it takes me to get ready?" Kurt asked grumpily, but he settled back down.

Finn shrugged. "You always look great. Don't worry so much."

Kurt rolled over, keeping himself pressed against Finn. Their faces were inches apart, and Finn could see how hard it was for Kurt to stay focused. "What are you doing?" Kurt asked quietly. "I'm not complaining, but…"

Finn smiled sleepily. "This is me taking your advice and not worrying."

Kurt's breathing slowed and his eyes unfocused, somehow becoming more clear at the same time. "So," he said carefully, "this is what happens when you're happy and relaxed?"

Finn shrugged. He still had an arm wrapped around Kurt and he used it to bring him closer, resting his hand on his lower back. Kurt's eyes slipped closed and a small, "Oh," escaped his lips.

"Is this a problem?" Finn asked.

Kurt shook his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Completely surrendering to his emotions Finn leaned forward and kissed him, slowly, carefully. Kurt responded immediately, lips moving against Finn's, pushing their bodies together, reaching up to put a hand on the back of his neck. Finn moved his hand from Kurt's back to his cheek, stroking his skin, marveling at how soft it was, much softer than any girl's. Kurt hummed in the back of his throat and moved his pelvis against Finn's. Finn's was pretty sure it was more instinctual than intentional, but it still triggered something in him and he had to pull away.

"I'm sorry, I—"

Kurt interrupted him with a kiss. "Don't worry about it," he said, voice breathy.

Finn felt his old insecurities come rushing back and he had to sit up, disengage, remove himself from the situation.

"Finn? Everything alright?" Kurt rested a hand on his back, and Finn jerked away.

"No. I don't know." He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. "Give me a minute, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Kurt's voice was small and hurt, and he got up, getting dressed in silence.

Finn, on the other hand, didn't seem to be able to move. He could only watch Kurt get ready, his own mind completely blank. He wished it wasn't, wished he could at least start to try to process what happened, but he couldn't seem to get his brain in motion.

"I'm going to go upstairs and get some breakfast, okay? Try not to take too long."

"Yeah," Finn replied vaguely.

"I mean it, Finn. I have a history test third period I can't miss."

"I got it!" Finn snapped at Kurt, who was walking up the stairs and didn't reply. Finn dragged himself out of bed, making himself get dressed, and then going upstairs. Kurt was in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. He kept his eyes on his Cheerio's and said,

"We need to leave in five so if there's anything you want, I suggest you get it now."

"I'm not hungry," he said, sitting down opposite Kurt. He gathered his thoughts, trying to find the most diplomatic way to say what needed to be said. "Try not to get mad at me. I just need some time to think. This is all new to me."

"Oh, sure," Kurt said, his voice unnaturally high. "No problem. And in the meantime, what? Should I forget everything that's happened?"

"No, I didn't say—"

"Of course you didn't," Kurt interrupted. "You never say anything."

Fin was starting to get angry. "I'm being honest, Kurt. I don't know what else to say. I'm doing my best."

"Just remember I have feelings, too." Kurt stood up and put his dishes in the sink a little more violently than he needed to before grabbing his keys. "Come on. I don't want to be late."

2

Needless to say, Finn still couldn't focus in Spanish. He and Kurt had arrived just before third period started so he had gotten to class on time, but his mind kept wandering back to Kurt, back to the things he made him feel. He barely noticed when, halfway through class, there was a knock on the door and Mr. Shuester excused himself.

"Hey, Finn," Mercedes whispered to him from a few seats away. "Are you okay? You seem really out of it."

"I'm fine," Finn said. "I didn't sleep well."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Now why don't I believe that?"

"I don't know," he said angrily. "Maybe because you're a meddling—"

"Finn, get your stuff and come here," Mr. Shuester said, effecting stopping the conversation.

Mercedes shot him a death look, and Finn knew he'd be paying for that, unsaid or not. "I'm sorry, Mr. Shue. I'll stop talking."

"Now, Mr. Hudson."

Grumbling angrily to himself, Finn did as he was told. "I didn't mean to talk, I just—"

"It's not that," he said, voice dropping so Finn was the only one who could hear him. "Kurt's in the nurse's room. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but apparently he's asking for you."

Finn's stomach dropped, and his books nearly went with it. "What…?"

"Just go."

He went.

6


	8. Wicked Little Town

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Eight – Wicked Little Town.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** Some not very descriptive violence.

**Word Count:** 2,299

**Rating:** PG-13 for language I think? I dunno, it's hard to keep all these chapters separate.

**Spoilers:** None? I think?

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Wicked Little Town belongs to Hedwig and never, ever, ever Tommy Gnosis.

**Author's Note:** Oh fine, here it is. I wanted to keep y'all in suspense for a while longer, but what with the finale being so wonderful and sad and heartbreaking and amazing, I figured I should post it tonight.

_Wicked Little Town._

1

Finn could hardly think as he walked to the nurse's office. It seemed to take forever, and he had plenty of time to run through every possible scenario, each more unlikely than the next. Karofsky and Azimio was definitely the most likely, but what if Kurt had done something to himself? He had seemed upset this morning, yes, but not that upset. Or what if he had been shot, or run over by a car in the parking lot, or hit by lightening…

Finn stopped outside the door. No, Kurt probably hadn't been hit by lightening. In all likelihood, Karofsky and Azimio had beaten him up. Not pretty, but probably not fatal. He took a deep breath and, stealing himself for the worst, opened the door.

He hadn't done a good enough job. Kurt sat on one of the beds, holding an icepack to his face. Finn couldn't see what was wrong, but he could see the blood splashed down the front of his shirt, and he knew he had been right about the footballers. Kurt looked up and Finn saw he had a black eye, already starting to swell shut.

"You came," Kurt said, his voice sounding choked and oddly wet.

"Of course I did." Finn was at his side immediately and was about to sit down when Kurt raised a weak but protesting hand.

"Don't. The nurse things I have a cracked rib, and—" He broke off, coughing, and dropped the hand that had been holding his icepack to his side. Finn gasped. His nose was a bloody mess, barely recognizable.

"Kurt…" Finn sat on the floor next to his bed and rested a hand on his leg, gently cupping his ankle.

Even through his pain, Kurt managed to look disgusted. "For Christ's sake, Finn. Don't sit on the floor."

"Shut up," Finn said absently. "Where's the nurse?"

"With Figgins, I think. She wanted to call for an ambulance, but—" Kurt started coughing again, and Finn squeezed his leg.

"I thought I told you to shut up."

Kurt smiled miserably at him. "I told her I didn't need one."

Finn was about to start arguing when the nurse came back. "Good, you're here," she said briskly. "He wouldn't let me call 911, but I trust you don't need to be convinced?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good," she repeated. "You'll drive him to the hospital yourself, save us all a lot of arguing. Go get your car, and I'll get him into a mobile state."

Kurt glared at her. "I might be bleeding, but I'm still here."

The nurse patted his head. "Go on, hop to."

Finn did as he was told.

2

By the time Finn got back to him, Kurt was sitting in a wheelchair. He smiled sarcastically when he saw Finn and was about to start talking when the nurse saw and cut him off.

"He might have a concussion," she said. "I don't know hard he was hit, and I won't let him tell me. The wheelchair is in case he gets dizzy or passes out; if he hit his head on our watch, he could sue."

"Oh," Finn said. Concussion? He didn't know much about them, but it sounded serious. He walked over to Kurt and was about to start wheeling him out when the nurse put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him aside.

"Make sure he actually gets to the hospital," she said, not bothering to lower her voice. "He's stubborn, this one, and we wouldn't want that pretty little face of his to get ruined forever."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And I don't know if you plan on pressing charges or not but if you do, you'll want photographs and x-rays and doctor mumbo jumbo."

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated.

"I'm going to call the hospital and let them know you're coming. I'll have somebody meet you out front, so go straight to the emergency room doors; don't bother parking. If you aren't there within a half hour, I'll know, and I won't be happy. Do you want that?"

"No, ma'am."

She clapped his shoulder. "Good man. Now get out of here."

3

The ride to the hospital, like the walk to the nurse's office, seemed to take forever. Finn asked Kurt if he wanted to put on some music, but Kurt said he had a headache and he'd rather it stay quiet. The seriousness of this request, coupled with the wheezy quality of his breathing, made Finn drive even faster, speeding through the quiet streets.

They did get there eventually, and Finn pulled into the driveway marked "Ambulances Only." As promised they were immediately greeted by a team of people, who got Kurt out of the car and onto a gurney with practiced speed. Finn tried to help, but he was pushed away, and Kurt was whisked out of sight before Finn could do much more than ask what he should do to help.

"Move your car," one of the nurses called over her shoulder.

Feeling numb, Finn did as she said, getting back into the car and driving it into the maze that was the parking garage. He found a parking spot eventually, but didn't get out yet. The need for urgency was gone, but the disbelief was still there, mucking up the system. Finn couldn't believe that he was really sitting here, in Kurt's car, underneath the county's only hospital. Not only that, but it was his teammates that had put Kurt here in the first place.

_They were my friends,_ Finn thought dully. _Actually my friends. If it wasn't for Glee I'd still be one of them. It could have been me doing this—is it really that different than a slushie in the face, or getting thrown in the dumpster? _The answer, of course, was yes, but even though he knew it in his head, his heart said something different.

It occurred to him he should probably go inside, find the waiting room and ask if there was any news. Feeling like he was the worst person in the world he dragged himself out of the car and shuffled through the hallways, following the signs to the ER. He walked through the final doorway into a room he only got the vaguest impression of before his vision was obscured by Burt Hummel.

"They won't tell me anything," he said. "Just that he's in good hands, but God knows what that means."

"We just got here," Finn said. "They probably don't know anything yet."

"The nurse at school said something about cracked ribs, and maybe a concussion?" Finn nodded miserably. "Jesus. I was hoping she was exaggerating, or…" Mr. Hummel suddenly grabbed Finn, who only stood there, confused. Was he trying to tackle him? Was he still that angry about him calling Kurt a fag? Then he realized he was being hugged, and that Mr. Hummel was crying. "Thank you, Finn," he said through his tears. "For bringing Kurt here, for being his friend. I know it can't be easy for you. Just getting Kurt here at all…The nurse told me he put up a fight, and it was you who convinced him to come." Was that what had happened? Finn hadn't thought so. "I wasn't wrong about you at all. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Finn patted him on the back, feeling incredibly awkward. He didn't deserve this much credit, not for this and not after the way he'd been treating Kurt. "Forget it," he muttered.

"Don't you say that." Mr. Hummel pulled away, wiping angrily at his eyes. "I called your mom, and she should be here soon."

Finn nodded. "I think I need to sit down," he said, looking for an empty chair. "We might be here for a while."

Mr. Hummel nodded. "Might as well."

4

Finn's mom showed up at the same time as the police. They talked to Mr. Hummel first, and Finn filled in his mom on what little they knew. She sat next to him, holding his hand, and he wondered if she could possibly know what had happened last night, and this morning. Finn leaned his head on her shoulder, exhausted.

It didn't take too long before the police finished with Kurt's dad and wanted to talk to Finn. He glanced at his mom, who nodded. "What do you need to know?"

There were two officers, one a young, black guy and the other a middle-aged white man. It was the second who responded to Finn's question. "Do you know who did this to your friend?"

Finn nodded. "Dave Karofsky and Jimmy Azimio. They're on the football team."

"Uh huh. Did you see anything happen?"

"Not today, no," Finn said. "But they've been on his case for a while."

"So you knew they didn't like him?"

Finn gave them a confused look. "Well, yeah. Everyone did."

"And you're on the football team too, right?"

"Well yeah, but—"

"Tell us why you were late to school this morning."

Finn stared at them. Could they possibly think he had something to do with this? "We, uh, slept in. Kurt forgot to set the alarm last night."

"You didn't know that Mr. Karofsky and Mr. Azimio were waiting for Kurt by the history rooms? You didn't tell them that he had a test that day?"

"N-no," Finn stammered, shocked. "Kurt always has history then; anyone could have known that."

"Burt Hummel said you had recently moved in, and that there was some tension between you and Kurt."

Finn glanced at Mr. Hummel, wondering how much he had said. "Yeah, but I wouldn't hurt him or anything."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" Finn nearly shouted. He looked around, saw the stares he was getting, and lowered his voice. "I would never, ever, hurt Kurt. He's my—" He faltered. His what, exactly? "My friend."

The cops exchanged a look."Is that all?"

Finn glimpsed at Mr. Hummel, who was now listening intently. "Yes. That's it."

"All right," the white cop said. "I think we've got everything we need for now." He turned around and walked away, talking into his radio.

The younger cop turned to Finn. "Sorry about that," he said. "In a situation like this, we need to investigate everyone."

Finn nodded, his words used up for now. He sat down heavily, and his mom patted his knee. "He's right, you know. They need to ask."

He nodded again. "I'm hungry," he said, and while he had skipped both breakfast and lunch, it wasn't true. "I'm gonna go to the cafeteria, okay?"

His mom nodded. "Take as much time as you need."

5

Finn got himself a sandwich and a coffee. He sat down and stared at them, his mind mercifully blank. He didn't know how long he had been there for when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He looked up, eyes widening in surprise. "Puck? What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "The whole Glee club is here, down in the waiting room. Your mom said we should leave you alone, but doing what people say has never been my style." He sat down opposite Finn, grabbed his sandwich a took a bite before tossing it back down on the plate. "How's Kurt?"

"Dunno yet." He continued to stare at Puck, not quite believing his best friend since elementary school was really here. "I thought you hated me."

"Dude, there are things more important than girls." He paused. "Not a lot, but this is one of them."

Finn looked down into his coffee. "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it." Puck leaned back in his chair, somehow managing to not overbalance. "So what's the deal with you two? You've been living together for, what, a week now? How's that working out?"

Finn wanted to talk to him, needed someone he could open up to, but he couldn't forget what Quinn had said. If he couldn't be trusted with something as important as birth control, why would he bother keeping his mouth shut about a stupid crush? "Fine," he mumbled.

"Heard you got kicked out."

Finn looked up at him. "Who told you that?"

Puck shrugged. "I have my ways. Where'd you crash?"

"I, uh, broke into school. But I'm back at Kurt's now."

Puck leaned as far back as he could, staring at the ceiling instead of his friend. "Man, I hate you for making me say this, but my door's always open."

Finn stared at him. "I don't—"

Puck sighed hugely and set all four legs of the chair back down on the floor. "You're so thick it's painful. If you ever need a place to stay, my door's always open."

"Is this your way of apologizing for getting my girlfriend pregnant, lying about it, and then stealing her away from me?"

Puck groaned and leaned back again. "If you have to put it like that, I guess. But if you ever, ever, tell anyone I apologized, I'll beat your ass." He suddenly realized how very inappropriate that was, and nearly caused the chair to topple over backwards. "You know what I mean."

Finn allowed himself the smallest of smiles. "Thanks, man."

"Shut up."

6

They stayed in the cafeteria for a while longer, catching up, talking about anything that wasn't Kurt or Quinn. Eventually Finn glanced at a clock and sighed.

"We should head back down," he said. "See if there's any news."

Puck shot him a sidelong glance he didn't have the energy to interpret. "Sure, whatever." He stood up, the chair on all four legs again for the first time since he had sat down. Finn, however, stayed seated. Puck sighed. "Come on, man. What's wrong?"

Finn just shook his head. "Forget it," he said, standing up himself. "Let's go."

10


	9. What Sarah Said

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Nine – What Sarah Said.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,405

**Rating:** G I think? Not much.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrases Narrow Stairs and What Sarah Said (I promise no character deaths, it just had the right mood).

**Author's Note:** Gah I loved the finale sooo much and it completely inspired me and I really couldn't just sit there and leave Kurt hanging! This is much better.

I have Important Things to do in the Real World today and tomorrow so there might be a lag for the next chapter. Not to worry, I know what's going to happen.

_What Sarah Said._

1

Finn and Puck walked into the waiting room together and were greeted by a wall of Glee clubbers. They all seemed to gravitate towards Finn, clapping him on the back, giving him hugs, telling him it would be okay. He glanced at Puck, who shrugged. Finn made his way through them and sat down, feeling awkward.

"Thanks, guys," he said. "Any news?"

"Not yet," Mercedes said, sitting down next to him. She glanced around at the club and gave them a look that made them scatter. Finn felt his stomach tightening—this didn't bode well.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Mercedes opened her mouth to say God knows what when a doctor emerged from the back of the room. "Burt Hummel?" he called. Finn, along with his mom, Kurt's dad, and the rest of the Glee Club appeared instantly at his side.

"How is he?" Mr. Hummel asked, taking off his baseball cap and turning it over in his hands.

"My name is Dr. Allen," the doctor said. "Kurt was very lucky; he doesn't have a concussion, or a broken nose. He does have three fractured ribs and plenty of bruises, but he should be fine. This is usually the time where I ask if he has someone to take care of him, but I can see that won't be a problem. You can see him now, but I'm going to have to insist you go in a few at a time. He asked for his dad and, uh…" He checked his chart. "Finn Hudson?"

Finn felt everyone staring at him, but he only looked at Mr. Hummel and his mom. They exchanged a look, and shrugged. "If that's what he wants, it's fine by me."

Finn nodded to himself. "Right. Let's go." He followed the doctor and Mr. Hummel through a set of doors, down a hallway, around a corner and through another set a doors before coming to a stop in front of room 135.

"Don't tire him out," Dr. Allen said. "He needs his rest."

"We won't," Finn said before following Mr. Hummel into the room.

Kurt looked awful. Time had given his bruises a chance turn colors and puff up, and his left eye was now completely closed. His nose still looked like a mess, and Finn couldn't understand how it wasn't broken. He was wearing a hospital gown so Finn couldn't see his ribs, but he was sure they were a sight to see.

Kurt tried to smile at them, but winced instead. "Hey, guys."

His dad was at his side in a moment, taking his hand in one of his, using the other to gently stroke his forehead. "Kurt…"

Kurt looked over his dad's head at Finn and managed to roll his one good eye. Finn stared at him, incredulous. Was he really trying to make light of this? "I'll be fine, Dad," he said, his voice still coming out in a wheeze. "I promise."

"How're you feeling?" he asked. "I can't imagine the pain you're in…"

"I'm fine," Kurt repeated. "They hardly got me."

Mr. Hummel tightened his grip on his son's hand. "I'm going to make those bastards pay, mark my words. The police said they'd be in later today to take your statement."

Kurt's eye widened marginally at that. "Dad, I really don't think—"

"Kurt, I love you, but I'm your dad, and you don't have a say in this. You might be fine now, but what about next time?"

Finn sat down in the corner, wishing he could leave. He didn't feel like he should be listening to this, like it was something between father and son.

Kurt started to say something but whatever it was got lost in a coughing fit. Once he had it under control, he said, "Dad, could you go get me a soda? I'm parched."

"Uh, yeah," Mr. Hummel said, sounding confused. He kissed his son's forehead before leaving, closing the door softly behind him.

The change in Kurt was instant. His face crumpled, and tears started leaking out from his good eye. He brought a hand up to cover his face and turned away as much as he could. "Finn, can you—" He broke off, coughs racking his body. Finn was at his side, pulling his hand down, taking it in his.

"Shh, Kurt, it's okay. You're safe here, and you'll be fine." The words sounded stupid coming from his mouth, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I can't let my dad see me like this," Kurt said, his voice rough and cracked. "All he wants from me is to be a man, and I can't even…" He trailed off, and turned back to Finn. "Can you tell him I'm not feeling well, that I need to sleep?"

Finn stared at him. "He's your dad."

"I know. Please, Finn?"

He looked so hurt, so completely miserable, Finn couldn't bear to say no to him. "I'll do my best."

Kurt squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

Finn stood up and walked slowly to the door. He knew he couldn't do what Kurt wanted; this was what parents were for. If he was in Kurt's place, the only person he'd want to see would be his mom. He knew his relationship with his dad wasn't as easy as his own with his mom, but Finn also knew how much his dad loved him, and that that was the only important thing. He didn't even have to wait a minute for Mr. Hummel to come back, diet Coke in hand.

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Finn said. "He just needs his dad."

Mr. Hummel's face softened, and Finn saw that his eyes were starting to tear up again. "Don't go too far," he said before going in.

"I won't," Finn said to himself.

2

It was nearly half an hour when Mr. Hummel came back out, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. Finn stood up and stretched, back cracking unpleasantly from the uncomfortable hospital chairs. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, y'know. Kurt's a tough kid. He'll be fine. He wants to see you," Mr. Hummel said. He walked past Finn, then turned back and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good guy, Finn. Kurt's lucky to have you."

Finn didn't know what to say to that. "Uh, thanks."

"Kurt said he told you to not let me in. You did the right thing—you know it, I know it, and Kurt knows it. But he's also stubborn, and doesn't like to admit when he's wrong," he said. "Just a warning."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"All right then." Mr. Hummel gave his shoulder a parting squeeze before leaving.

Finn took a deep breath, and went in. Like his dad, Kurt had tears drying on his cheeks, but he seemed a little better in spite of them. "Hey, Finn," he said, voice quiet.

"Hey." Finn sat down next to Kurt, no doubt in the chair his father had just been in. "How's it going?"

Kurt sniffed. "I've been better. My dad says I have to talk to the police whether I want to or not."

"Why on earth would you not want to?" Finn asked incredulously.

Kurt shrugged, then immediately winced. "I'm tired," he said.

"I'm pretty sure you can wait until you feel better to talk to them," Finn said. "At least another hour or two."

"Yeah, I guess." Kurt looked up at him, right eye shining. "Thanks for sending him in, Finn. Sometimes I forget how much he loves me, freak or not."

Finn took his hand again. "Definitely not."

Kurt managed a half smile. "I really am exhausted," he said. "I think it's the medicine they gave me, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. Eye. Whatever."

"I can leave if you want," Finn offered, though the thought made his stomach clench.

Kurt shook his head, but he also closed his good eye. "Stay."

Finn brought Kurt's hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently, making the corners of Kurt's mouth turn up slightly. "Whatever you want."

"Just you," he said, words slurring together.

"You have me," Finn said, then added, "I love you." He hadn't planned the words, wouldn't have said them if he had, but they came out sounding right, like the only sane thing he had said in days.

They were met by nothing but quiet snores.

7


	10. Today Was A Fairytale

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Ten – Today Was A Fairytale.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,356

**Rating:** PG-13 for smooches :)

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Today Was A Fairytale belongs to Taylor Swift (I couldn't help my self—the irony combined with the nonirony was just too much).

**Author's Note:** Here you go! Enjoy! I certainly did ^^

Please review, guys? I keep seeing that you're adding me to your alerts and favorites and I love it, but I love reviews even more.

_Today Was A Fairytale._

1

Finn wasn't aware he had dozed off until he woke up to the sound of quiet voices. He cracked his eyes open, disoriented. Why was he in a chair? Why was—was that really Mercedes?—in his bedroom? And why was his room beeping?

"It's about time you woke up."

That did it. Kurt's voice still sounded awful, probably from the pain of the cracked ribs, and the day came rushing back. "How long was I asleep?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand, realizing he still had Kurt's in the other.

"Dunno," Kurt replied, also sounding sleepy. "I've been dozing on and off myself."

"The police couldn't get a coherent sentence out of him," Mercedes said.

Kurt made a dismissive noise. "The doctor's said I can go home tonight, so I can't be that bad off."

"Mr. Hummel went home to get some clean clothes. Apparently they needed to cut Kurt's shirt off to get to him."

Finn raised his eyebrows at Kurt. "Sorry, man."

Kurt smiled at him. "It was already ruined. I'll just have to drag myself to the mall and go shopping. You all know how much I hate that." The three of them laughed. Kurt stopped immediately, hand going to his ribs, face contorting in pain. "Guess I'm not allowed to have a good time," he managed.

Finn squeezed his hand, causing Mercedes to raise an eyebrow. "I'm gonna get some lunch," she said pointedly. She gave Kurt a meaningful look, and left.

"What was that about?" Finn asked.

Kurt flushed pink. "It's nothing. I dreamed something stupid, that's all."

Finn's stomach starting doing flips. Had Kurt heard what he had said? "O-oh?" he stammered.

Apparently Kurt noticed, because his gaze sharpened. "Or was it real?"

Now it was Finn's turn to blush. He looked away, but there was some instinctual part of him that still didn't let go of Kurt's hand. "That depends on what you thought I said."

"I didn't say you said anything," Kurt said quietly, and Finn knew it had nothing to do with the pain. "It did happen? You said you loved me?"

Finn felt himself starting to panic but shoved it down. This was absolutely not the time to start being a jerk again. Kurt needed him, and he needed to man up and stop running from what he knew to be true. "Yeah."

"Wow." Kurt's voice was soft and awed. "Do-do you think you could say it again, now that I'm actually awake?"

Finn laughed nervously. "C'mon, man." He forced himself to look at Kurt who was pulling nervously at his blankets with his free hand. "Don't push your luck."

Kurt smiled a strange, tight little smile. "You're right, I'm sorry. I haven't had the greatest day, in case you didn't notice, and I—"

Finn interrupted him with a kiss, making sure to not hurt him. "Nothing's changed," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Kurt's face. "Just don't rush me, okay?"

Kurt's smile spread across his face, eye shining. "Okay."

Finn kissed him again, just below his good eye. "Okay." He kissed his jawbone, his neck, right above where the hospital gown started, making sure he wouldn't forget how good it felt.

"Finn," Kurt whispered, his name coming out in a breath of air. "Stop. I can't breathe when you do that, and it hurts."

Finn brushed his lips against Kurt's once more. "Sorry," he said, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't be too sorry."

There was a knock on the door and Mr. Hummel came on carrying a bag of clothes. He looked a little embarrassed, but Kurt gave Finn's hand a reassuring squeeze, and Finn decided he could, in fact, stay in his seat, and didn't need to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

"I brought you clothes." Mr. Hummel tossed the bag onto the bed. "I'll, uh, leave you to it," he said, and left.

Kurt took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Well, I guess now I know what happens when my dad walks in on me. Good to know." He smiled at Finn, the question clearly visible on his face.

"Don't rush me," Finn repeated. "You know it and I know it, and now your dad knows, and I'm pretty sure Mercedes does, but don't make me say it."

Kurt's smile grew mischievous. "Say what?"

Finn groaned. "I'm not going to."

"Boyfriend," Kurt whispered.

Finn stood up, dropping his hand. "Let's see what your dad brought you," he said, grabbing the bag and dumping the contents onto the bed. There was a button-down shirt, a pair of jeans, and silk boxers. Finn ignored those, asking, "Do you need my help?" knowing what the answer would be.

"Of course." Kurt giggled. "I think the medicine is making me silly."

Finn rolled his eyes. "You think?" He looked at Kurt, then at the clothes. "Can you sit up? I need to untie your gown."

"Only if you help me," he said, and while his voice was still light and joking, Finn could see the truth on his face. "Take my hand."

Finn did, using one hand to hold Kurt's and resting the other on his shoulder. "I'm going to move you forward, okay? Let me know if it hurts too much." Kurt nodded. "Okay." Finn helped him into a sitting position as gently as he could and made quick work of the ties, keeping an eye on Kurt's face. He had both of his eyes closed and was biting his lip, but he didn't say anything. Finn tenderly set him back down, and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

"Give me a minute," he said, tightening his hold on Finn's hand. Finn kissed his forehead gently, earning himself a smile. "Can you get it the rest of the way off?" Kurt asked. "I thought I could do it myself, but sitting up is hard work."

"Yeah, sure." Bracing himself for the worst, Finn carefully took it off, one arm at a time, watching his face for any sign of pain. There wasn't any, and Finn didn't want to know how hard that had been for him. Kurt had an ace bandage wrapped around his chest, so Finn couldn't see the extent of the damage. He trailed his fingers down Kurt's side, barely touching him, and Kurt sighed.

"Be careful with me."

"Let me know when you're ready," he said, taking Kurt's hand again, gently massaging it.

Kurt smiled, eyes still closed. "If this is how you treat me when I'm in the hospital, I almost don't want to come home."

"Very funny."

Kurt sighed again. "All right, let's do this."

"Lean on me," Finn said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and carefully helping him into a sitting position. "You okay?"

"Hurry up," Kurt said through clenched teeth.

Moving as quickly as he could, Finn got the shirt on, wincing every time Kurt hissed in pain. It took no more than a minute, and he set him down gently. "Do you need help with the buttons?"

"Don't be stupid," Kurt snapped, doing them himself.

Finn sat back down, watching as the ace bandage disappeared under the fabric, almost like it wasn't there. It didn't take long for Kurt to finished, and when he was done he looked much more like himself, face aside.

"I'll need your help with my pants," he said, averting his eyes. "Don't worry about the boxers; they didn't take those from me."

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. Sometime, in the future, there might be a time for that, but not here, today, like this. "No problem." It didn't take very long, and Mr. Hummel came in a few minutes later.

"Kurt's all checked out," he said, coming in with an empty wheelchair. "You'll need to see your doctor again in a week for a follow up, but in the mean time I have a prescription for pain killers and instructions to wait on you hand and foot."

Kurt shot Finn an evil glance that he pretended not to notice. "Let's get you out of here."

6


	11. As The World Falls Down

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Eleven – As The World Falls Down.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** Recapping of violence, some sexual stuff but not too much.

**Word Count:** 2,272

**Rating:** PG-13 I'd say.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns Narrow stairs and David Bowie owns As The World Falls Down.

**Author's Note:** I'm so happy with how this chapter came out! It started off as a terrible piece of shit, but somehow it managed to blossom into something wonderful. I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!

And no, I'm not sure how the next chapter is going to turn out yet. You'll just have to wait and see ;)

_As The World Falls Down._

1

Finn wheeled Kurt to the front doors where Mr. Hummel was waiting with his car. Finn and Mr. Hummel managed to get Kurt in the front seat without causing him too much pain, and Kurt opened the window so they could talk.

"Come straight home, okay?" he said, then smiled. "It's my first decree."

Finn smiled back. "Yes, sir."

Kurt flushed, and Finn found that he was starting to like that, liked how it made him feel, liked how easy it was. "I'll see you soon." Kurt started coughing again as he was driven off.

Finn turned around, nearly walking into Mercedes. "Uh, hi," he said. "You were standing pretty close behind me."

Mercedes grinned at him, but it wasn't a friendly smile, more like that of a cat who had finally cornered a mouse. "I know. We need to talk. Walk me to your car."

Finn gulped. "I'm sorry about this morning, in Spanish. I didn't mean-"

She stared at him. "What? No. Forget that. We need to talk about Kurt."

Finn felt himself go pale. "Oh."

"Yeah. Come on, let's go." She prodded Finn, sticking a finger into his ribs. He started walking, leading her inside and to the elevators. He kept quiet, figuring that was his best option.

"As I'm sure you know, Kurt's been keeping me fully updated about your…goings on," she said.

Finn found his throat was suddenly dry. "He has?"

"Oh yes. In detail." Finn went from white to bright red. "You've been an ass; no point in trying to sugar coat it. Objectively, I could see how this might be hard for you, but I'm not a very objective person. Kurt is my best friend, Finn, and I'm not going to stand idly by while you break his heart."

"I'd never—"

"Shut up, white boy. I'm not done yet." The elevator dinged open and a small crowd of people got out, leaving it empty. Finn pushed the P2 button, and they started going down. "Look, I know you have it in you to be a decent person. I haven't forgotten everything you've done for Glee, especially back when we first started. And I think you could be good for Kurt, if you let yourself. But if you don't step it up and be a man, I'll make your life a living hell. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Finn said, resisting the urge to add ma'am.

"Good." The doors opened, and they started walking towards Kurt's car. "I need a ride home, by the way."

"I promised Kurt I'd go straight home," Finn told her.

Her lips tightened, and she pulled out her cell. "I'll let him know you'll be late."

2

Finn pulled up in front of her house fifteen minutes later. The ride had been one big lecture, accented by what he could only assume was Mercedes' angry playlist. He looked at her, silently begging her to get out of the car. She stared back, eyes narrowing, and Finn wondered if she could read his mind.

"Treat him well," she said eventually.

All in all, the words weren't as deadly as he had been expecting. "I will."

"Don't think Kurt won't be keeping me updated, because he will," she added.

"Okay."

"And try not to be too much of a guy about it."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Mercedes, has it ever occurred to you that I actually like Kurt, and I don't want to hurt him?"

Judging from her expression, it hadn't. "He's my best friend," she repeated, getting out of the car. "He needs someone to look after him."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "I think he can handle himself."

"Yeah, well, we'll see." There was a quiet buzzing, and Mercedes pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Kurt's wondering where you are. You better get going."

_Couldn't agree more_, Finn thought. "See you tomorrow."

Mercedes scoffed. "We'll see about that."

Finn drove off, wondering what she meant. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

2

Finn found Kurt lying on his bed, bowl of chicken soup on his lap, Desperate Housewives on the TV. He was propped against what looked like a mountain of pillows.

"Took you long enough," he said, taking a sip. "Though I guess if Mercedes was involved, it probably wasn't your fault."

"She can be pretty…intense," Finn said, eyeing the bed. "Can I sit down, or would it hurt too much?"

Kurt smiled at him. "I thought you'd never ask. You can be my pillow; I made my dad give me every last one, and he'd probably like a few back." Wincing a little, he set his soup down on his bedside table. "I'll need your help, though." Finn put a knee on the bed, and Kurt hissed in pain. "Be careful."

"I don't know how to be more careful," Finn replied. "I need to, y'know, put my weight down."

"Find a way," Kurt snapped. "You're supposed to be making me feel better, not worse."

It was then that Finn started to suspect that taking care of Kurt wouldn't be quite like anything he had done before. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, trying to keep his voice diplomatic.

"I don't know."

Finn sighed. "Are you sure you want me to sit with you?"

Kurt glared at him. "If you're just going to be a jerk about it, then I guess not. Do you know what time it is?"

Finn, confused, pulled out his phone. "Uh, almost four. Why?"

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god." He grabbed a pill bottle and shook two tablets out, swallowing them with a sip of water. He lay back against the pillows, eyes closing. "Sorry," he muttered. "Maybe you can wait until the Vicodin kicks in?"

"Yeah, sure." Finn leaned down and kissed the top of his head before heading over to his own bed. He pulled out his Spanish textbook and stared at it miserably. "Don't suppose you're up for helping me study?"

"Not unless it's about Wisteria Lane," he replied.

Finn sighed. He'd figured.

3

"Hey, Finn?"

He looked up from his Spanish homework, happy for the distraction. "Yeah?"

There was a long silence, and Finn was about to go back to studying when Kurt finally spoke. "I need your help with something."

Finn stood up and stretched. "Yeah?" he repeated.

"You're going to think it's stupid, but it's not."

Finn went over to Kurt, sitting very carefully on the edge of his bed. He didn't flinch, so the painkillers must've kicked in. "What is it?" Kurt looked up at him, and Finn saw the determination and seriousness written all over his face. Finn took his hand, expecting the worst. "You can tell me."

"I need you to wash my hair." Finn laughed, unable to help himself, and Kurt glared at him. "I won't be able to do it myself; I can hardly breath, let alone lift my arms. You wouldn't want my hair to get all stringy and oily, would you?" Finn shook his head, barely able to contain his laughter. It was just such a Kurt thing, to take his hair this seriously. "It's not funny, Finn." That, of course, didn't help anything. Kurt swatted his arm, and Finn thought he could see some playfulness sneaking in. "I mean it." Finn started laughing again, bringing one hand up to cover his mouth. Kurt smiled, though he clearly didn't want to. "Finn…"

"I love you." The sudden declaration seemed to take the air out of the room, and he stopped laughing. Kurt's eyes widened, and his mouth opened wordlessly, clearly not knowing what to say. _That makes two of us,_ Finn thought. He looked away, standing up awkwardly. "So, um. Your hair?"

"Uh, yeah." Kurt sat up, and slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Can you help me up?"

"Yeah." Finn wrapped an arm around Kurt, taking most of his weight. "How do you want to do it?" he asked.

Kurt leaned on Finn, snuggling into his embrace. "Mmm."

"Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes flew open. "Sorry, what?" He flushed. "I think the Vicodin makes it hard for me to focus."

Finn readjusted so he could hold him more easily. "You wanted me to wash your hair?"

"Oh, right. If you could get the shower to a decent temperature, I'll—"

"Shower?" Finn interrupted.

Kurt gave him a strange look. "What, were you expecting me to bend over the sink?"

"No, but…"

"You can wear your clothes for all I care, but I need your help." Kurt tried to move away from him, to stand on his own, but he swayed, and Finn caught him, wrapping both arms around him, holding him. "Sorry," he repeated, voice breathy. "I guess it makes me dizzy, too. Can you get me to the bathroom?"

Finn walked them over to the bathroom, not saying anything. A shower? With Kurt? His stomach was knotting itself as tightly as it could, torn between nerves and excitement and a sign in his mind flashing NO over and over again in big, red letters. There was something else he didn't want to name, but Kurt would find out for himself if he didn't get away from him soon. "What…?"

"Put me down on the toilet," Kurt said. "I need to sit. You know how the shower works, right?"

Finn set him down and turned away. "I've been living here for a week, Kurt," he said, turning the water on, holding his hand under the tap until it was the right temperature. He stayed that way for a little longer than necessary, willing himself to calm down in every sense of the word. He took a deep breath and turned around.

Kurt had managed to get his shirt off himself this time, but he was stuck on the ace bandage. "I can't find the stupid edge," he muttered.

Finn knelt in front of him and put his hands flat on Kurt's chest. "Let me know if I'm hurting you, okay?"

Kurt's eyes slipped closed. "Mmm."

Being as gentle as he could, Finn ran his hands over his chest and back, looking for the silver clasp. He could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, saw every hitch when he accidentally touched a bruise. Without being aware of it, his breathing fell in time with Kurt's, and he was more than a little sorry when his fingers stumbled across cold metal instead of coarse cloth. "Got it," he said, voice coming out oddly rough.

"Be careful," Kurt whispered, barely loudly enough to be heard above the running water.

Finn nodded. He removed the clips easily, putting them on the sink. "Put your hands on my shoulders," he instructed. Kurt did, biting his lip against the pain. Finn took the end of the bandage and started unrolling it, going slowly, exposing a little more bruised skin with each revolution. Eventually it was completely off, and Finn found he had to fight down a sudden wave of anger. Kurt's whole left side was a sunset of bruises, skin stretched tightly from the swelling. Finn noticed a bruise on his arm, too, and he reached up gently, brushing his fingers against it questioningly.

"They grabbed me," Kurt said, voice still quiet. "And slammed me against the lockers. Karofsky punched me, my eye and then my nose. I fell, hit my head against the floor. They kicked me. I don't know how long it went on, but eventually they stopped. I guess I managed to get myself to the nurse's office, I don't really remember." A ghost of a smile touched his face. "And then you came."

"Kurt…" Finn breathed, unable to say anything else.

Kurt opened his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." He took his arms back and undid his jeans. "Can you, uh, take these the rest of the way off?"

"Stand up," Finn said, working to keep his voice even. "You can rest your hands on my shoulders again if it helps."

Kurt did, fingers digging in, using Finn to support himself. Keeping the faces of Kurt's attackers in mind, he slid Kurt's jeans off, leaving his boxers on, trying not to think of what was right in front of him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking up at Kurt. "Are you ready?"

Kurt nodded. Finn stood up and Kurt didn't move his hands, letting them slide down his body, coming to rest on his hips. His good eye was wide, filled with things Finn couldn't understand. He leaned down, kissed him gently. Kurt's eye closed and he moved closer, pressing his bare chest against Finn's. Finn didn't know what was so special, couldn't figure out what was different from this morning, but there was no apprehension, nothing holding him back anymore. He cupped Kurt's head in one hand, supporting his neck, and moved the other down to his ass, feeling the silk beneath his fingers, feeling Kurt's gasp.

"You can't do that," Kurt said, breaking the kiss, resting his head on Finn's chest. "You can't do anything that screws with my breathing."

"Sorry," Finn said, smile playing around his lips, and said again, "Ready for your shower?"

Kurt nodded, but made no attempt to move. "You gonna keep your clothes on?"

Finn considered it. It was the safest answer, definitely, both for Kurt and for him. He didn't want to do anything to hurt him, but he also didn't want to do anything that might trigger his panic reflex. "Yeah."

Kurt sighed. "I thought so. Come on, let's go."

10


	12. Everything's Magic

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Twelve – Everything's Magic.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** Graphic sex, finally :P

**Word Count:** 1,933

**Rating:** R for said sex.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Everything's Magic belongs to Angels & Airwaves.

**Author's Note:** Even after I started writing, it took me a while to decide on the direction I wanted to go in. I was almost as surprised as Finn was, to be honest. I love how it came out though, and trust me, it wasn't easy.

Also, my beta reader is sick, asleep and my mom, so I had to proof this one myself. I'm generally a pretty good editor, but it was a little, hmm, distracting, so if there are errors, I apologize.

_Everything's Magic._

1

Finn got in the shower first, then turned and helped Kurt. The water soaked him immediately, making his shirt cling to his skin and jeans suddenly feel much heavier. Kurt gave him an appreciative look before stepping under the spray, leaving a stray hand on Finn's shoulder to help keep his balance. Finn watched him, watched how the water slid down his face and to his chest before disappearing into the band of his underwear. Maybe he should've taken those off, too.

"Finn, there's a thing of body wash behind you. Can you hand it to me?"

Finn turned around, and his eyes widened. There was not, in fact, a thing of body wash. Instead there were what seemed like hundreds of bottles, bars and tubs filled with everything under the sun. "Uh…"

Kurt sighed impatiently. "It's brown?"

That seemed to narrow it down by half. "Can you, uh, be a little more descriptive?"

"Could you be any more of a boy?" Kurt muttered angrily. "Move."

Finn stepped out of the way, watching with something near amazement as Kurt picked out what he had been looking for without thinking twice. "You have a lot of…" he paused, looking for the right word. "Shower stuff."

Kurt gave him a half smile. "Let me guess. You have a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo?"

"So?"

"Bars dry out your skin," Kurt said, squeezing a murky, grey substance onto his hand. "And I can't yell at you about your shampoo because I doubt you know what it's called, let alone what's in it."

"You have bars," Finn said defensively.

"Those are _scrubs_," Kurt replied, putting the bottle down on the side of the tub and rubbing his hands together. "They're completely different from soap."

"Oh," Finn said, watching as Kurt soaped himself, being careful not to touch his bruises. "I see."

Kurt gave him a disgusted look. "You're impossible. When I'm feeling better, I'll teach you myself. Maybe make a night of it." He smiled wickedly. "Sound good?"

Finn nodded, throat suddenly dry. Kurt stepped back under the water, rinsing himself off, maybe taking a little longer than he needed to. Finn could feel his pants getting tighter and wondered if the fact that they were wet would it make it more or less noticeable.

"The shampoos are on the top shelf," Kurt said. "Pick one you like."

Finn looked away with an effort and tried to make his brain focus long enough to do what Kurt asked. Even just the top shelf was overwhelming, seeming to go on forever. He grabbed the closest one, and held it up for approval.

Kurt raised an eyebrow delicately. "Strawberry? I guess, if you want." He turned so his back was facing Finn. "You do know how to use shampoo, right?"

"Yes," Finn grumbled. He opened the bottle, half expecting the contents to be pink, but they were white, just like his. The scent of strawberries filled the room, nearly overpowering. "You actually like this stuff?" Finn asked, rubbing it into Kurt's hair.

"It strengthens from the inside out," he said. "And gives me a healthy, lustrous shine."

Finn smiled to himself, continuing to massage Kurt's head. Kurt sighed, leaning back so Finn was again supporting most of his weight. "I can't reach your hair when you do that," Finn said, wrapping his arms around Kurt, mindful of his ribs.

"It's okay," Kurt said, words slurring together. "Don't mind."

Finn suddenly felt heady, the heat from the shower and the smell of strawberries combining with the feeling of Kurt pressing against him. He started stroking Kurt's sides, gently, running his fingers along the soft skin. Kurt sighed again, shifting against him. There was no question now; Kurt must've felt him, but if he did, he didn't say anything. Finn could see a gentle arc protruding from Kurt's boxers, and felt his breathing speed up.

"Should rinse your hair," he said, working to make sure his words came out in the right order.

"Mm, probably."

Finn stepped them forward so they were directly under the water, the spray making him dizzy. He ran his hands through his hair, watching the shampoo run out, making sure it was completely gone. Kurt stayed against him, and Finn could tell his shirt would smell for strawberries for a long time.

"Now what?" he asked, lips sliding against Kurt's ear.

Kurt moaned, a quiet sound that barely escaped his mouth. Finn shivered, felt himself get harder. "Conditioner."

Finn had to bite back a laugh; it wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "I thought only girls used conditioner."

Kurt stood up, moving away from Finn. "Don't be a jerk," he said, voice between teasing and actual anger. "Second shelf. And make sure to find the strawberry one; I won't smell like a fruit salad."

Finn smiled to himself and began searching through the endless bottles, looking for the right one. He thought he might have found it, and was about to pick it up when Kurt was suddenly there, behind him, wrapping his arms around him.

"I can't keep my hands off you," he said, voice low. Kurt's hands were still slippery from the soap and were already so soft, and somehow his shirt was off and making a wet plopping sound as it landed on the floor of the shower before Finn had any idea what was happening. Kurt's hands were everywhere, sliding over his chest, stroking a nipple, going down to squeeze his ass, and yes, he could definitely feel Kurt pressing against him and it was all he could do to not come on the spot.

"Wait, Kurt, no." His voice came out in short, sharp gasps, and he couldn't seem to make his hands work well enough to find Kurt's to stop them.

"Mm, yes." Kurt's response was low and sultry, and suddenly Finn's pants were so tight it was painful. Kurt seemed to pick up on that, and suddenly his hands were _there_, unbuttoning, unzipping, sliding in and wrapping around him and it was good, so fucking good, better than anything that had ever happened before and Finn was putting out a hand, groping for one of the shelves, needing something to brace himself against.

"Kurt, shit." It was all he seemed able to say, and while some indistinct part of him knew that he needed to say something, say something soon, but he couldn't find the words and he was too close to have the willpower to say them even if he knew what they were.

And then his hands were inside his boxers, pushing them down, touching him for real and he couldn't believe how good it felt, how absolutely amazing. He was thrusting into his hands, unable to pace himself, do anything other than surrender to the overpowering sensations.

"Finn, turn around." He didn't know how he managed to, but he did, stepping out of his underwear and jeans, leaving them in a pool by his feet. "I want to see your face when you come."

Finn groaned, the sound escaping his lips without permission. His eyes had closed and he kept them that way, not wanting to see how broken Kurt was, not wanting to remember he should be doing anything other than what he was. He heard a quiet thump, and then Kurt's hands were replaced by Kurt's mouth, and that was it. He came, hard, probably harder than he ever had before. He was aware of Kurt spitting clumsily, and suddenly he felt awful, worse than awful, like an absolute asshole. This was so over the top, so completely terrible, and yet he still couldn't stop the shakes that ran through his body.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry," Finn said, sinking to the ground, sitting on the floor of the shower. He kept his eyes closed, not able to look at him.

Kurt looked at him, confused. "Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?"

Finn opened his eyes, incredulous. "What do you mean? I'm supposed to be taking care of you, helping you, not…not making you doing this."

Kurt smiled at him, and Finn felt his heart nearly stop. Even with his bruises, his black eye, he looked so beautiful and so innocent, water running down his face, smiling the sweetest smile Finn had ever seen. "You didn't make me do anything," he said. "And what makes you think this doesn't help?" He leaned forward, kissing a shocked Finn. "It does," he whispered, moving so he was sitting in Finn's lap, back to chest, and he grabbed his arms, pulling them around himself. "It helps more than anything else possibly could."

Finn sat still, trying to process the words Kurt had said. "It's not, like, demonstrative?"

Kurt smiled. "Derogatory, Finn, and no. It's good."

_Good,_ Finn thought, realizing his hands were in Kurt's. _This is good._ He untangled then, started tracing circles on Kurt's skin, slowly moving lower. Kurt hummed in the back of his throat, settling further back into his arms. _Really good_, he added, watching as the rise in Kurt's boxers grew bigger. He slipped a hand under the band, feeling the coarse tuft of hairs. He moved a little lower, not quite believing it was actually happening. Kurt gasped as he closed his hand around him, stroking his length in one, smooth motion.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked.

Kurt made some sort of affirmative noise that Finn didn't quite understand. He kept going, trying to find the right spots, feeling hopelessly confused. Kurt had made it seem so simple, so easy, but maybe that came with being gay. Finn just felt awkward, but he supposed that was nothing new.

"Is…is this good?" Even his words sounded awkward.

Kurt managed a breathy, "Yes." He lifted his hips up, pushing into Finn's hand. "More."

Finn stopped for a moment, taking the time to remove Kurt's boxers. He had seen guys naked before, of course, at school, in the showers after practice, but this was different, so incredibly different. Kurt was beautiful, no bruises could ever change that, and Finn couldn't understand how it had taken him so long to realize such a simple thing. He went back to work with renewed confidence, no longer thinking of it as something awkward, but instead as something beautiful, as something right. Kurt moved against him, thrusting up, digging his fingers into Finn's legs, making the most wonderful sounds.

"You're sure I'm not hurting you," Finn asked.

"Don't stop," Kurt gasped. It wasn't quite the answer he had been looking for, but Finn supposed it was close enough. He did as he was asked, and the whole thing was over in another minute. Kurt arched up one last time, nearly screaming his name as he came. The shower took care of the mess, and he collapsed back against Finn. "That was amazing," he whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

"Mm," Finn replied, leaning his head on Kurt's, smelling the strawberry of his shampoo, wondering if he had ever really hated it. It was nice, sweet and light, and it still made him dizzy.

"I've thought of this so many times before, but none of them were as good as the real thing."

Finn blushed, smiling into Kurt's hair. "Mm."

Kurt looked over his shoulder at Finn, a sparkle in his good eye. "What about me?" he asked. "Was I better than you dreamed?" Finn didn't know how to answer, other than turning redder, but that seemed to be enough for Kurt, who settled down contentedly. "I'll still need that conditioner."

"Mm."


	13. I Go To Sleep

1

They were lying in bed together, Kurt carefully curled in Finn's arms in the one position he insisted didn't hurt too much. Finn was skeptical, but he was learning pretty quickly not to push anything Kurt said, either while he was in pain or on Vicodin, and it wasn't like he really minded. Kurt was most of the way asleep, but Finn was wide awake; it was early, and even if it hadn't been, he wasn't sure he could've slept at all after today.

"Remind me to send Karofsky and Azimio a thank you letter," Kurt mumbled sleepily.

"Sorry, what?" Finn said, thinking he must've misheard.

Kurt smiled, too tired to open his eyes. "For bringing us together. If you really stop freaking out on me, it was worth it."

Finn didn't know what to say. He supposed it was true, in a way. Seeing Kurt like this did bring out his protective side, and there was no question he was more comfortable around him now than he had been, even this morning. But he couldn't give all the credit to Kurt's attackers, if for no reason other than pride. And Mercedes would no doubt insist it was all because of her. "Maybe I'm just growing up?" Finn suggested.

"Mm, doubt it," Kurt replied.

Finn decided it would be pointless to try to convince him otherwise, especially when he was asleep. Maybe he'd get up early, make Kurt some pancakes, try to win him over that way. It occurred to him that he hadn't done any further studying for his Spanish test, but he decided Mercedes had probably been right about that, too—Kurt was hardly willing to let him out of his sight long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone go to school.

Finn moved so his lips were resting against Kurt's ear. "Goodnight," he said softly.

Kurt smiled. "Love you."

For the second time that day, Finn's heart nearly stopped. Nobody had ever said that to him other than his mom; not Rachel, definitely not Quinn. He had known for months that Kurt had a crush on him—of course—and while he might have jokingly said that he was in love with him, he hadn't believed it, not really. The times he had said it to Kurt hadn't been planned, or thought through at all, and he hadn't been expecting anything back. He told Quinn he loved her, once, back when she first told him she was pregnant, but she had ignored it completely. At the time he assumed she had more important things to worry about but now, here, he couldn't think of anything better than those three words.

"I love you too, Kurt." Kurt's lips found Finn's, and they shared a brief kiss.

"I'm asleep," Kurt said, breaking away. "Tomorrow."

"Sleep well," Finn said.

"You too."

2

Finn had just managed to fall asleep when he felt hands shaking him, a voice saying his name. He groaned, instinctually rolling away, trying to bury his face in his pillow.

"Finn, please wake up?" Kurt's voice was tight with pain, and Finn sighed, forcing his eyes open.

"What?"

"I can't sleep," Kurt said. "I think the Vicodin wore off and I can't take more for another hour. Will you wait up with me?"

Finn sighed again, sitting up and glancing at the clock. Three. Great. "Yeah, I guess."

Kurt's hand found his in the dark and he twined their fingers together. "You're amazing."

Finn felt a lot of things, but amazing wasn't one of them. Exhausted, grumpy, and maybe still in shock about how quickly things were moving with Kurt. "Nng," he replied, finding Kurt's lap, resting his head on it, letting his eyes close.

Kurt sighed. "If you need to go to sleep, can you at least put in the next disc of Desperate Housewives?"

Finn dragged himself out of bed and over to the TV before realizing there wasn't enough light to see anything. "Light?" he mumbled. Suddenly the room was blindingly bright, and he had to close his eyes against the glare. He cracked an eye open, changing the disc as quickly as he could before climbing back into bed. Kurt mercifully turned the light off, and Finn was mostly asleep before remembering he said he'd stay up.

"You should watch this part," Kurt said. "It's the recap of everything you've missed."

Finn couldn't think of anything he cared less about than Desperate Housewives. He moved so his head was back in Kurt's lap and let his eyes slip closed, ignoring the voices coming from the TV. He was vaguely aware of Kurt resting a hand on his head before falling back asleep.

3

"Finn? Hello, Finn? Wake up!"

Finn mumbled something unintelligible.

"_Finn_!"

He opened his eyes, remembered he was on Kurt's lap, and smiled to himself. "Mm?"

"Could you get off me?" Kurt snapped.

Finn rolled onto his back, looking up at him. "What's wrong?"

Kurt's good eye narrowed. "Oh, nothing. I asked you to do one little thing for me, stay up just a little longer than you'd like to, but you couldn't even do that. I stayed up myself because I didn't have a choice in the matter, and I think I could finally fall asleep, but I can't even lie down with you sleeping on me like this."

Still feeling confused, Finn moved off him, and Kurt lay down with a sigh. "You okay?"

"What does it look like?" he answered angrily. Kurt was facing away from Finn, but he didn't take that personally—he was just lying on the side that didn't hurt. Finn moved so they were spooning, but Kurt jerked away from him. "Stop it. I'm trying to sleep."

"What's going on?" There was a quiet sniffling sound, and Finn realized Kurt was crying. "Kurt?"

"I just really needed you to stay up with me," he said, all the fight gone from his voice.

Finn wrapped an arm around him, and this time Kurt let him. "Talk to me."

Kurt stayed quiet for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. "I dunno," he said eventually. "Maybe it's just the medicine."

"What is?"

Kurt sighed. "This is hard for me, too. Us. I love you, Finn, but I can't help feeling like I'm disappointing my dad, like if I came out and told him we're together he'd hate me. I guess I know that isn't true, but what if it is? And if Karofsky and Azimio were this bad before, what do you think's going to happen now?"

"I think they're going to get expelled, and probably go to jail," Finn said, knowing that wasn't the answer Kurt was looking for. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that Kurt might be having a hard time; he always seemed so confident, so sure of himself. "Your dad's not going to stop loving you, either."

Kurt sniffled again. "I guess."

Finn kissed his shoulder. "We moved pretty fast, didn't we?"

He nodded. "Not that it wasn't good or anything, but I've never even kissed a boy before, let alone…"

"Same here," Finn said. "I've never even thought about it."

"Maybe we could slow down," Kurt said, then laughed a little. "I never thought I'd be saying that, to you."

Finn smiled. "That'd probably be good."

Kurt snuggled back against him. "As long as you can still hold me."

"I can."

Finn could hear the smile in his voice as he added, "And kiss me."

"That, too."

Kurt yawned. "And wait on me hand and foot. Doctor's orders and all."

Finn rolled his eyes. "We'll see."

"Yes, we will."

3


	14. Our Song

**Title:** Narrow Stairs, Chapter Fourteen – Our Song.

**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn

**Warnings:** N/A.

**Word Count:** 1,394

**Rating:** PG-13 for sexual situations.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Our Song belongs to Taylor Swift.

**Author's Note:** This is it folks! The end! It's been a wonderful, crazy ride and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. Not to worry, this won't be the last you see of me. I already have an idea for my next story.

Special thanks to **particularly good finder** for being an amazing reviewer and to **Harry Fado** for inspiring me and opening my eyes up to new pairings. You guys are the best.

_Our Song._

1

Finn woke up slowly, enjoyably. Kurt was kissing him, and he responded without thinking about it, wrapping his arms around him, sliding his tongue into his mouth. Kurt sighed happily, moved closer against him. Finn couldn't get over how soft his lips were. For someone who hadn't done a lot of kissing, he was awfully good at it.

"Morning," Finn said sleepily, pulling away.

"Morning. Sleep well?" Kurt moved lower, kissing his neck, gently sucking.

"Mhm," Finn replied, eyes closing. "You seem better."

Kurt smiled. "Vicodin is an amazing thing." He licked an earlobe, biting it gently, causing Finn to gasp. "And being awake at ten is definitely better than three."

"Yeah." He was about to say something else, maybe about breakfast, when Kurt captured his lips again, kissing him thoroughly. Finn kissed him back, enjoying himself, not minding until he felt Kurt's hands at his waistband. "Hey, wait," he said, breaking the kiss, working to catch his breath. "What about those things you said last night?"

"I was tired, and in pain," he said, sliding his hands under his shirt. "I'm feeling better now."

Finn gently grabbed his wrists, stilling his hands. "What you said was true, though."

Kurt gave him a look he didn't understand at all. "Who cares?" he replied. "Nobody's going to judge us."

"Yeah, they will." Finn kissed him, once. "I don't care about that though. I care about us, about making sure we don't rush each other."

"Is that how you feel? Like I'm rushing you?"

Finn sighed. "No. I mean, I know you're not trying to. But taking it slow can be a good thing."

Kurt took his hands back. "Fine."

"Kurt, wait—"

"No, it's fine. Just forget it." He lay on his back, shirt off; he had been in too much pain last night to want to deal with it. "Can you get me some breakfast?"

Finn sighed again. "Yeah, fine." He trudged upstairs, poking moodily through the cupboards, looking for something Kurt would like. He didn't have the energy to make waffles or pancakes, and a bowl of cereal seemed like a bad idea. Eventually he found a lone bagel, and decided that would have to do. He saw a note lying on the table and picked it up, waiting for the bagel to toast.

_Finn-_

_I hope you two slept well and didn't stay up too late. I called McKinley High and told them you'd be out for a couple days, and they said they'd send someone over with your homework._

_Just a warning—last time Kurt had to be on painkillers, they made him moody. Hopefully you'll get this note before he can see it, but I figured I should warn you. I'll be home in time for dinner, so don't worry about that._

_Good luck,_

_Burt._

Finn sighed. Great. Extra homework, and the expectation that Kurt's irritability would only get worse. The toaster dinged, and he spread cream cheese on the bagel before taking it downstairs.

"Your dad said he'd be home in time to make dinner," Finn said, handing Kurt the plate.

"Great. Mac and cheese it is." Kurt tentatively took a bite of the bagel before deciding it passed whatever test he had in mind. "Thanks."

"No problem." Finn sat on the edge of his bed, wondering what to do. It seemed like there was more to say on the subject of their relationship, but he didn't want to start another fight. And even if they did have that talk, what would he say? It wasn't that he didn't want Kurt, because he definitely did, but he didn't want to rush things. He'd never been in a sexual relationship before, and he knew Kurt hadn't, either. Besides, Finn kept waiting for that nagging little voice to start back up, the one that wanted to know what the hell he was doing with a boy and how he intended to explain it to his mother and was he really actually going to go through with this, and he had an idea that pushing sex would only hasten its arrival.

Of course, now that he thought of it, he felt his stomach tightening and knew it was too late. It was weird, sitting there, watching a topless Kurt eat a bagel, knowing that he loved him but still having those crushing feelings of doubt. It felt like being torn apart, and suddenly he thought he knew how Kurt had felt last night.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked through a mouthful of bagel.

"What do you mean?" Finn asked uncomfortably.

"I can see it on your face. Something's wrong." Kurt set his plate down on the bed. "If you really don't want to mess around, we don't have to."

"It's not that."

"So it is something." Kurt moved over so he was sitting next to Finn. "I promise I won't get mad."

Finn took one of Kurt's hands in his, studying it, wondering at the stupidity of it all. Why did it matter that Kurt was a boy? So what? If he was a girl none of this would be a problem, and Finn wouldn't feel like he was trying to turn himself inside out so they could be happy. He knew that leaving wasn't an option anymore, and that was fine because he was pretty sure he couldn't even if he had wanted to, but he had managed to convince himself that it would be easy, and it wasn't. He was pretty sure Glee wouldn't care, that they'd probably even congratulate them, but the football team? His teachers? His mom?

"What are we doing?" Finn asked.

"Having breakfast?" Kurt suggested.

Finn tried to push the thoughts away, tried to let it go. "Yeah, sure." He kissed Kurt, hoping his lips would help.

Kurt laid a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away. "Not until you talk to me."

"How do you do it?" Finn asked. "You're always so confident. You never care what anyone says about you, good or bad, and you're still so happy."

Kurt laughed. "Finn, it's sweet that you think that highly of me, but you're wrong. I'm just as insecure as you, as everybody our age. I need to act tough to be gay in a town like this, but that doesn't mean anything. If you haven't noticed, I eat, live and breathe fashion—if I really didn't care what people thought of me, I'd roll out of bed, throw on a dirty tee-shirt and a pair of sweats and call it a day. I do it for myself, of course, but if you think I don't care that people notice, that they think of me as a fashionista, you're wrong." Kurt reached out, stroked Finn's cheek gently. "I've known who I am my whole life. You're just starting to figure it out."

Finn shook his head. "I'm straight. I've known _that_ my whole life. You're just…" He trailed off, looking at Kurt, trying to decide what exactly he was. "Different."

Kurt smiled. "It's the best thing about me."

"You're not mad at me?"

"For not being gay? Don't be stupid." Kurt looked into his eyes. "What we have is real, and you know that. That's all I care about."

Finn managed a small smile. "Okay."

Kurt smiled back. "See how much better it is when you tell me what's wrong? No shouting matches, no storming off, no tears. Just you and me, being reasonable human beings, talking about our feelings."

Finn supposed that was true. There was still a part of him that insisted he wouldn't feel better unless he did start yelling, and storming off, and crying, but he continued to ignore it. "Yeah."

Kurt squeezed his hand. "This is good," he said. "This is progress." He leaned up, brushed his lips against Finn's. "We'll be okay, I promise."

Finn kissed him back, letting his body talk to Kurt instead of his stupid mouth, which didn't seem to get anything right. He put a hand on Kurt's back, supporting him as he pushed him back, not stopping until they were lying on the bed. He made sure to keep his weight off Kurt, not wanting to accidentally hurt him. Kurt kissed him back, no reservations this time, running his hands along Finn's back and chest.

"I love you," Kurt said.

"I love you, too."

**The End.**


End file.
